t 



THE JUBILEE 



AT 



MOUNT SAINT MARY'S. 



THE JUBILEE 



AT 



MOUNT SAINT MART'S, 



OCTOBER 6, 1858. 



PUBLISHED BY THE PRESIDENT OF MOUNT ST. MARY'S 
COLLEGE, EMMITTSBURG, MD. 



NEW YORK: 

EDWARD DUNIGAN & BROTHER 

[JAMES B. KIRKER,] 

371 BEOADWAY. 
1869. 




3,60* 



Entered, accoi*ding to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by 

JAMES B. KIKKEE, 

In the Clerk's OflSce of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 
District of New York. 



MAY 9 1919 



CONTENTS. 



Introduction, 

Address of President McCaffreYj 

Address of James McSherry, 

Aladdin's Palace, a Poem, by Geo. H. Miles, Esq. 

Latin Ode, by Chas. Constantine Pise, D. D. . 

Sermon of A. L. Hitselbeeger, .... 

The Catholic Mirror's Account of the Fifty- 



Page 

7 

9 
21 
65 
85 
93 



Year Jubilee, 133 

Discourse on Bishop Brute, . . . . . 163 
Discourse on Bishop Dubois, 235 




INTKODUCTIOH. 

The first suggestion of the Semi- Centennial Cele- 
bration at Mount St. Mary's College, was made more 
than six years ago, by the late lamented Bishop of Sa- 
vannah, and his friend and pupil, the Rev'd Thomas 
McCaffrey. Since then, the Prelate has fallen at his 
post, before the pestilence that scattered and decimated 
his flock, and the Priest, by a similar death, has earned 
the palm branch which now adorns his tomb on the si- 
lent mountain side. The two friends did not live to 
witness the consummation of their wishes, but the idea 
they started was gradually developed, until finally be- 
coming a general desire, it was happily realized on the 
6th day of October, A. D. 1858. 

For the exercises of the jubilee, and a full account 
of all the proceedings, the reader is referred to the fol- 
lowing pages, published at the request of many who were 



8 INTEODUCTION. 

anxious to have some durable memorial of the celebra- 
tion in which they took part. The volume is also in- 
tended for the gratification of the friends and Alumni 
of the Mountain, who were unavoidably absent. The 
funeral discourses on Dubois and Brute, being nearly 
out of print, are added as an Appendix. 



^)i)ixm 0f "ixmkut fltCafeg. 



ADDKESS OF PKESIDENT McCAFFREY. 

In obedience to the expressed wishes of my 
colleagues, I shall open the proceedings of this 
great Festival with a few words, which, I trust, 
you will receive with favor, considering less the in- 
dividual who speaks than the organ of the Col- 
lege — the successor, however unworthy, of the 
great and good Founder of this Institution. In 
the name, then, of all whom I represent, — of the 
Professors, Tutors and Students of Mount St. 
Mary's, I welcome you, Most Eeverend Arch- 
bishops, Bight Revd. Bishops, Eeverend Priests, 
and respected friends of the Laity : I bid you all a 
hearty welcome to our Jubilee. 

And now, assured that here you all feel your- 
selves at home — children of a common Mother, 
reassembled around the old familiar hearth-stone. 



12 ADDRESS OF 

and about to kneel again together before tbe fam- 
ily altar, I can speak to you with confidence, as a 
brother speaking to his brothers. And what, I 
ask, is the first feeling of our hearts on this aus- 
picious day ? Gratitude — deep, fervent, unutter- 
able gratitude to God, who, in his infinite good- 
ness, has prospered and blessed the efforts of those 
who, for his honor and glory, began their labors on 
this hallowed spot half a century ago. The seed 
they planted then, — the seedling, which they 
nursed and watered with their sweat and tears, is 
now indeed a noble tree, whose fruits are known, 
and not unhonored, throughout the world. For 
this, eternal thanks to God ! Praise and honor too 
to his ever blessed Mother, whose sweet and holy 
name our venerated founders piously gave to our 
Church and College, to secure her powerful pro- 
tection, and to inspire with her love all who were 
destined to be educated at St. Mary's Mount. 

The orator and the poet will soon describe 
the toils and sacrifices of these saintly men, and 
move you to emulate their lofty aims, and lib- 
eral views, and great achievements. My part 



PRESIDENT McCaffrey. 13 

is to welcome you, as I do most cordially, to 
the scenes consecrated by their labors. And 
while I regret to miss so many, whose hearts 
are doubtless with us, it is with a proud satisfac- 
tion I behold not a few of those who, like Dubois 
and Brute, have been and still are the brave, de- 
voted, self-sacrificing pioneers of the highest and 
best civilization — who have gone into the moral 
wilderness to reclaim and beautify it ; to clear the 
forest, to drain the marsh, and irrigate the gar- 
den ; to build the Seminary and the College, and 
rear the temple of religion on the hill-side or in 
the valley, or amid the smoke and din of the 
crowded city ; who are indeed enriching our coun- 
try with enduring monuments of their zeal for sci- 
ence and letters, the glory of Grod and man's sal- 
vation, though caring little " to leave their foot- 
prints on the sands of time," or earn any record 
save that which Angels keep in Heaven. 

There is a pleasure, too, a rich recompense for 
years of sacrifice and toil in the presence of such 
a number of the respected sons of Mount St, 

Mary's, whose talents and learning adorn, and 
1 



14 ADDKESS OF 

whose virtues hallow, the liberal professions and 
various walks of secular life. You have come from 
the East and the West, from the North and the 
South, here to " renew your youth/' and rekindle 
the flame of early devotion at the shrine endeared 
by so many sweet and holy memories. We greet 
you with a fond welcome, and thank God that our 
beloved country, among her many worthy sons, has 
ever found, and will find in you, virtuous citizens, 
enhghtened patriots, and, if need be, heroic de- 
fenders. 

This festive reunion, suggested and called for 
by many, by some even who are not here to enjoy 
it, needs no explanation. Should not the old and 
the young Mountaineer — the student of to-day and 
the student of fifty years ago, and they who form 
the connecting links in the living chain that unites 
the past with the present — take each other by the 
hand at least once in half a century ? Is it not 
meet and just that the patriarchs of the institu- 
tion — the few that yet linger amongst us of the 
earliest disciples of Dubois and Brute — should re- 
visit their loved Alma Mater, and, kneehng once 



PRESIDENT McCaffrey. 15 

again before tlie dear old altar on tlie lull, together 
breathe a prayer for her continued prosperity, and 
the eternal repose, in light and bliss, of her de- 
parted founders. 

It is fifty years since Mr. Dubois opened his 
little school for the education of Catholic priests 
and Catholic laymen, in the small log tenement 
still preserved and cherished as a relic, on the 
neighboring farm of Hayland. It is fifty years 
since he first occupied the log cabin that has dis- 
appeared from its site just below the church which 
crowns yon sacred hill. It is fifty years since he 
there gave a temporary home to Mother Seton and 
her companions, our first Sisters of Charity, whose 
successful establishment and marvellous progress, 
are, under God, preeminently due to him and Mr. 
Brute — the rude nursery for a time of those Angels 
of Mercy whose schools, hospitals, and orphan asy- 
lums are now spread from yon valley of St. Joseph 
to Boston, Milwaukee, and New Orleans ; from the 
Atlantic to the Pacific coast ; from Halifax, in 
Queen Victoria's dominions, to Monterey and San 
Francisco. Fifty years ! and Mount St. Mary's — 



16 ADDRESS OF 

the joyous mother of children, who have made her 
name honorable throughout the Christian world — 
from such unpromising beginnings has become what 
you now behold her. 

And, if you ask me the secret of this wonder- 
ful development and prosperity,! frankly own that I 
cannot tell it. She has had no State endowments, 
no rich bequests, no wealthy and lavish benefactors, 
no great assistance or encouragement, no help or 
hope from without ; while of difficulties and dis- 
couragements she has had her full share. And 
yet she has grown, and thrived, and flourished — 
and all that we can say to explain the strange phe- 
nomenon is, that the spirit of Dubois and Brute, 
as we fondly think, still lives in the Institution, 
for which their prayers may be even more effica- 
cious now than their labors were of old — that to 
us it seems " the finger of God is here ; " that 
this is something " which the Lord hath done ; let 
us exult and be glad therein." " Ha3C dies, quam 
fecit Dominus ; exultemus et laetemur in ea." 

We do indeed rejoice : this is our Jubilee, and 
our mountain, robed in her richest hues of autum- 



PRESIDENT McCaffrey. 17 

nal beauty, is keeping holiday witli us. God 
showers his blessings on us : sainted spirits, to 
whom this place is dear, are watching over it : 
good angels, we may well believe, are encamped 
upon that holy Mount, and hover round about us. 
Thanks be to God, and glory to his ever blessed 
Name, and praise and honor to our Holy Patron- 
ess ! May the students and friends of Mount St. 
Mary's make pilgrimages to this spot, to see her 
still flourishing year by year : may they hold hap- 
py jubilees hereafter, and may they ever find her 
still blessed by God— still favored by his Immac- 
ulate Mother ! 



^)i)ixm 0f |mes Itt^gl^rrg, ®sq. 



ADDEESS OF JAMES McSHEKKY, ESQ. 

In this Most Keverend and learned presence, 
surrounded by an audience in whose breasts elo- 
quent memories are thrilling at every heart-throb, 
I might well shrink back from the duty assigned 
me on this occasion, did I not call to mind, here in 
this well-remembered spot, that I am a son of the 
middle decade of our common Alma Mater's Hfe, 
and that you are in her, my elder and my younger 
brothers. Perhaps my words, addressed to brothers 
of the mountain school, met together to celebrate 
the fiftieth anniversary of its foundation, may be- 
come potent in the vibrations of your hearts. The 
wind that strikes the harp, itself, is dissonant ; 
the sweetness and power of the music lie only in 



22 ADDBESS OF 

the tense, and finely attuned strings it touches 
in its passage. 

We celebrate a golden wedding here this day. 
Fifty years ago, upon this spot, a doubly gifted 
bride, endowed with science and religion, though 
poor and humble in all things else, was wedded by 
sacred hands to the rude mountain, and blessed 
with the name, so dear to many hearts, of Mount 
St. Mary's : and we, the children of that Mystic 
Bridal, have come, as prilgrims here from many 
widely distant newer homes, back to the old hearth- 
stone of our early years, to honor the holy memory 
of the great and good departed, to dwell upon their 
labors and their trials, to rejoice in their success, 
to share in their triumphs. 

Fifty years ! how much of good, how much of 
evil are compressed into that period less than the 
allotted life of man ! How much of happiness and 
misery ! Dynasties have perished, Kepublics risen 
and fallen, Kingdoms and peoples been torn asun- 
der — far more of destruction, it would seem, than 
of re-edification ! How many histories are written 
in the world's footsteps through it, and how varied 



JAMES Mc SHEER Y, ESQ. 23 

the fates of the actors in its movements 1 And here 
is one written on this mountain side, in letters of 
glorious life and usefulness, which it becomes us to 
read well to-day. The world, as its full tide flows 
on, knows not the real greatness it carries in its tur- 
bid bosom. Foam and spray and bubbles are float- 
ing proudly upon its troubled surface^ sparkling in 
the sun, clad in rainbow hues, mocking the diamond 
with borrowed light — and passing away to nothing- 
ness. But the age that follows, finds in the sands 
where the tide has passed, the pure gold and the 
true jewel, which were borne along unnoticed in 
the inner heart of the world-current, and went to 
rest only to leave their wealth, their beauty and 
their usefulness, to adorn all the generations for 
time and eternity. Fifty years ago, there were 
many bubbles and much foam, sparkling on the 
wave of life, then seeming the glory of the time and 
promising its true greatness in history, which have 
passed away and are forgotten ; but some of its best 
jewels and purest gold, humbly moving beneath 
the surface, rested here upon the mountain's side, 
enriching it with wealth untold as yet, but greater 



24 ADDRESS OF 

than that of famed Pactolus, more lasting than the 
whole world's placers — making it the shrine of many- 
loving hearts, the pilgrimage of an ever swelling 
array of reverent followers. 

KoU back the flight of time, in fancy, more than 
fifty years, and standing with me on yonder sum- 
mit, gaze ont upon the wild picture stretched be- 
neath. The dark forest spreads its canopy of oak 
and chestnut, intermingled with belts of gloomy 
pine, over the rocky steeps, rounding the rugged 
sides of the deep glens, down to where the moun- 
tain melts into the plain, and far around and be- 
yond, save only here and there a cottage, a clearing 
or a farm-house. Around the foot of the declivity, 
thickets and swamps, and masses of rocks, and end- 
less beds of stone, render the ground unfit for culti- 
vation, and seem almost to forbid the passage of 
any but the lithe hunter or the hardy mountain 
woodsman. Far below, amidst the surrounding 
buildings of a farm, but under the same roof with 
the rude but comfortable dwelling, stands the 
chapel of this wild and sequestered district — the 
heart-centre of the sparse flock — ^loved, cherished 



JAMES MoSHERKY, ESQ. 25 

and preserved, because it broiiglit to them memo- 
ries of the dark days for their faith, which it was 
hoped the successful struggle for freedom and in- 
dependence had swept away to return no more for- 
ever. There in Maryland, which Catholics had 
founded, and where they had proclaimed and main- 
tained the equal political right of all professing to 
be Christians, to the free exercise of their religious 
belief, it stood a monument of the changed days 
when the Catholic priest was permitted, as a great 
concession from the harsher laws that succeeded 
the Protestant Revolution of 1689, to say mass in 
the dwelling-house of a private family. 

Look out upon that scene, and see in it a figure 
of the Church throughout the whole land. The 
chains which bound it have been riven, the shackles 
have fallen from its limbs — but they are yet nerve- 
less, chilled, and unaccustomed to their new-found 
liberty. The barrenness and gloom of its poverty 
and recent subjugation still cover it. The places 
where it shall be strongest and most fruitful, know 
it not as yet. Its members are few and scattered, 
small clearings and centres of cultivation, as it 



26 ADDKESS OF 

were, in the great forest of Protestantism that over- 
spreads the land with its long favored growth. 
They look back with grateful hearts on the trials 
they have passed through safely, on the oppres- 
sions that have ceased, and they are content 
with the peace of quiet repose. Seventy-five 
years of disfranchisement in the land of their 
birth, had made that rest and freedom too de- 
licious for them to awake at once to a full com- 
prehension of their duty and their destiny, before 
the century had closed, and a new generation, 
nursed in freedom, had sprung up to invigorate 
them. They had loved liberty, for in chains they 
had sighed for its advent, and, when the hour 
came, they rallied to a man in its cause, under the 
lead of the two illustrious Carrolls — the Priest and 
the Patriot. They had earned Hberty, for they bore 
their part in the council and the battle-field, and 
when the British Lion was brought to bay and 
conquered, in the closing struggle of the war at 
Yorktown, where the seal was set to the charter 
of American independence and nationality, the 
swords and bayonets borne by French, and Irish, 



JAMES MoSHEKRY, ESQ. 27 

and American Catholics, in its cause, equalled, if 
not outnumbered, all others put together. Liberty 
was no boon to them ; it was their ancient birth- 
right, which they had redeemed on the same red 
battle-fields, in common with their brethren of 
every creed. It was not doubted then — it should 
not be questioned now. But as yet they were in 
no condition to gather all its benefits. The cramp 
of the yoke had not yet left them. They were 
few, and poor, and scattered ; and, twenty years 
after full freedom had dawned upon them, one 
diocese stretched over the whole expanse of the 
United "States, with one Bishop and a few Priests 
to gather the harvest of the vast wilderness. 
There were barren rocks, and forests, and seeming- 
ly impenetrable thickets around the foothold of the 
Church, more frightful than those around this hill, 
which then would have appalled the looker-on 
from yonder summit. 

To us, now, the picture of that day appears 
but sad and gloomy : to those who dwelt and act- 
ed in it, mindful of the still darker past, it was a 
glorious prosperity already reached, which after- 



28 ADDRESS OF 

times would scarcely see surpassed. A Bishop, 
and Priests, and open churches, and freedom ! 
Might they not cry out with holy Simeon, " Now 
thou dost dismiss thy servant, Lord, in peace." 
And when a prophet came, enlightened by the 
burning love and charity of his saintly heart, to 
foreshadow this magnificent scene which now sur- 
rounds us, and the greatness of the work that 
would be here accomplished in the progress of the 
Church, assisting to spread out over our land a 
glorious constellation of dioceses, churches, col- 
leges, and congregations, men might well stand as- 
tonished, and almost turn away and scoff at the 
dreamer. Even now, in this land, where the 
Church is still free to suffer and to win souls by 
its sufferings, to work and enlarge its folds by its 
labors, to teach and rear up apostles by its lessons, 
and these examples of the past, and where all 
hearts pour forth daily the orison to the Immacu- 
late Queen of Apostles, to pray the Lord of the 
harvest to send laborers into the harvest, they are 
marked as rash, or smiled at as visionaries, who 
foretell, in hope, still brighter days to come — days 



JAMES MoSHEKKY^ ESQ. 29 

when the Catholic spirit of love and self-devotion 
shall be breathed throughout the people, shall 
inspire their patriotism with holier flames, shall 
strengthen the Union with ties that neither fanat- 
icism nor sectionalism can rend asunder, and main- 
tain unperverted, and in their integrity, the hered- 
itary liberties of the land. He, who, before the 
close of the last . century, would have pictured 
forth the Church as it stands to-day in our coun- 
try, might well have been accounted mad by those 
who only weigh the value of human means. There 
were but few laborers in the vineyard, and the 
foundations of two colleges and a single seminary 
were scarcely laid, to increase, or even to main- 
tain, their numbers. The people were poor, with 
rare exceptions, and barely able to furnish means 
of support to the few over-worked missionaries 
among them. In the older stations of Maryland 
and Pennsylvania, these were sustained by the 
lands which had, in earlier times, been secured for 
that purpose. The heart of Archbishop Carroll, 
then lately named Superior of the Clergy in the 
United States, as he cast his sorrowing glance over 



30 ADDRESS OF 

his vast and helpless diocese, might perhaps have 
grown sad and despairing, had he placed his hopes 
in the mere strength of human means. But he 
trusted in God, and worked on fearlessly and faith- 
fully, knowing that, in His own good time. He would 
give the increase ; that out of poverty He would 
bring forth riches, out of weakness strength, out 
of the curses of His enemies blessings, out of their 
seeming success His triumph. 

Sad and sorrowful, and clouded with many 
woes, came at last the helping hands. 

Storms arise in the Old World ; destruction 
broods triumphant over the desolated cities, and 
provinces, and empires. Out of the Catholic heart 
of France, Catholicity seemed to have been 
crushed ; altars desecrated, priests slaughtered, 
monasteries destroyed, and the Goddess of Keason 
enthroned upon the ruins of Christianity, struck 
terror into the hearts of the most hopeful. The 
end of all things might well have appeared to be 
at hand. But the destruction that seemed immi- 
nent was but the forerunner of an almost univer- 
sal re-edification, far other than the destroyers had 



JAMES Mo SHERRY, ESQ. 31 

anticipated. God mocks his enemies, and turns 
tlie currents of their fury into the fructifying chan- 
nels of his grace. 

Flying from the tornado in France, a young 
priest, embarking from Havre, lands at Norfolk, in 
July, 1791, armed only with indomitable spirit and 
exhaustless zeal, while at the same moment a ship, 
without concert, sailing from St. Malo, is entering 
the harbor of Baltimore, freighted with the band 
of good Sulpitian priests, exiles like himself, who 
are to become the founders of St. Mary's College 
and Seminary, in that city, and for a time be his 
associates in his own great project. Other holy 
exiles will soon occupy missionary points from the 
forests of Maine to the prairies on the Mississippi, 
and the shores of the great lakes. Born in Paris, 
on the 24th of August, 1764, John Dubois was 
educated at the College of Louis Le Grand, 
which had already trained Charles Carroll, of Car- 
rollton, for the service of American freedom. In- 
tended for the camp, he found his true vocation in 
the sanctuary ; and was ordained priest before the 
canonical age, by dispensation, on the 22d of Sep- 



32 ADDBESS OF 

tember, 1787. Kejecting tlie impious constitu- 
tional oaths tendered by the infidels who ruled 
France in 1791, he obtained a passport and letters 
of introduction from Lafayette, with whose family 
he was acquainted, and fled from Paris in dis- 
guise. Bearing these letters, he was received kindly 
by the Kandolphs, the Lees, the Beverlys — by Mon- 
roe, and by Patrick Henry. Polished, learned, 
and devout, he attended to the spiritual wants of 
the few Catholics of Norfolk and Kichmond, with 
the permission of Bishop Carroll, while he taught 
his native tongue for a support, and pursued the 
study of English, receiving occasional assistance 
in his studies from the great Virginian orator 
himself. 

Yirginians have still some of the old colonial 
bigotry ; perchance Father Frambach may even 
yet be in peril when he crosses from Frederick to 
the southern shore of the Potomac, in his missions. 
But the young French priest who bears the letters 
of the friend of America, is taken by the hand by 
the gentlemen whose names are side by side with 
that of Charles Carroll of Carrollton, on the Decla- 



JAMES Mc SHERRY, ESQ. 33 

ration of Independence, wlio have associated with 
Lafayette and Kocliambeau and De Grasse, who 
remember that more than a hundred brave Catho- 
lic Frenchmen shed their blood before the redoubts 
of Yorktown, leaving their bones to mingle with 
the soil of Virginia, as a claim of citizenship for the 
exiled sons of Catholic France, — who have not yet 
forgotten the dead Pulaski, nor the still living 
Kosciusko, at that moment fighting for the free- 
dom of his Catholic native land, as he had long 
before fought for ours. Thus welcomed, he cele- 
brates mass in the very State House at Kichmond, 
as if to take most solemn possession of the future 
diocese, which is to be filled by one of his own spirit- 
ual children, thereafter reared under his own eye at 
this sacred spot. But Providence brings liim nearer 
to that great labor which is to be the crown of his 
life, and his memorial after death. 

In 1794, he is removed to Frederick, in Mary- 
land. He has stations in Virginia, in Montgomery 
county, Maryland, in Fredericktown, and through- 
out the county. His mission is almost boundless, 

for he is for a time the sole priest, besides Kev, 

2 "" 



^ Public U 

RHCF'P.' 






34 ADDRESS OF 

Mr. Badin^ in Kentuckyj from Frederick to St. 
Louis. In these wide-spread labors, he has learned 
the wants of the country : he mourns for the des- 
titution of the Church, he laments over the rich 
soil that is everywhere filling up with weeds, be- 
cause there are no laborers to cultivate it ; and 
he sorrows over the blighting germs of unnumbered 
congregations, dying away untended in the lonely 
emigrant cabins, scattered far over the mountains 
and valleys of the boundless interior. Yet he is 
everywhere laboring with superhuman energy, 
while the great thought of his heart is taking form 
and consistence, and his dearest affections are 
gradually clustering around one spot of wild 
and romantic beauty. Yet he bides his time. 
Who can tell what visions filled his soul in the 
midnight watches, as often amid danger and dark- 
ness he toiled many a weary mile to visit the sick 
and cheer the dying ? Who can picture the 
glorious joy with which he sketched out in his heart 
for the eye of God, the details of his maturing pro- 
ject ? How its contemplation sustained him, how 
it became possible to him when it was a folly to 



JAMES McSHERKY, ESQ. 35 

others ; how at length, it seemed only to need that 
he should stretch out his hand, and God would bless 
it and accomplish the work, when to others it was 
a dreamy and benevolent madness. 

Penetrating to yonder hill-top, swelling as it 
were from the mountain side, he looked out upon 
the wide-spread valley below him. It was as wild 
and lovely a view as the eye need wish to look 
upon ; and thence he gazed, like the leader and pro- 
phet of old, upon the future home of his children. 
But unlike him of Pisgah, after having wandered 
far from his native clime and caught a glimpse of 
his land of promise, it was granted to him to enter 
upon it and share in the fruition of his hopes, for 
he had struck the rock of gushing waters with un- 
faltering faith. The forest trees were felled, the 
virgin soil was dedicated to the immaculate Virgin 
Queen of Heaven, and, aided by his own patient 
toil, the Church of Mount St. Mary's reared up its 
modest cross, a beacon to the whole valley. The 
time has at length come ; the beginning of the 
great design has been made under that holy em^ 
blem. Mr. Dubois bids adieu to Frederick, but the 



36 ADDRESS OF 

fourteen years of Ms residence there have not been 
without a blessing and a memorial. He leaves his 
little flock a substantial Churchy which they can- 
not fill with their scanty numbers, and which is still 
preserved with care and devotion, although a ven- 
erated and beloved successor was compelled by the 
growth of his congregation to erect one much larger 
for their occupation. And now in the year 1808, 
just half a century ago, he took possession of the 
log dwelling erected three years before by the joint 
labors of his two neighboring congregations, mid- 
way between the Church and the selected site of 
his new Seminary. "With him resided a few of his 
pupils and] teachers, while others were boarded in 
the neighborhood, and the school was daily held in 
a small brick building in the vicinity. Under the 
protecting shadow of the Mountain Church, hard 
by that pure murmuring spring, whose waters have 
since cooled many a lip now far away or silent in 
the tomb, the very memory of whose gushings from 
the rocks has come back after many years to weary 
hearts, Hke the voice of long-forgotten music freshly 
heard once more, a site is cleared and levelled, and 



JAMES Mc SHERRY, ESQ. 37 

a row of log buildings commenced, rough and rude, 
but such as has often been, in this country, the 
first home of men and institutions destined to 
greatness and renown. 

Mr. Dubois at first attached himself to the 
Sulpicians, those brother exiles who reached these 
friendly shores almost at the same moment with 
him, and who had now, under the auspices of 
Bishop Carroll, already laid the foundations of the 
College and Seminary of St. Mary's in Baltimore. 
How much does America owe to France, to French- 
men ! The fathers came in the hour of our coun- 
try's need, with the sword of her chivalry to aid in 
bearing on to triumphant freedom the banner of 
the Stars and Stripes, and in the hour of spiritual 
destitution, the sons bore hither their torn and 
bruised hearts, armed with martyr-like courage 
and apostoHc zeal, to aid in establishing, maintain- 
ing, and extending the glorious ensign of the Cross. 

With the quick instinct of Frenchmen they saw, 
as Mr. Dubois had seen, that the first great want 
to be met in this new field of mission, was the 
preliminary training and education of American % 



38 ADDRESS OF 

youth, for the Church. They had estahlished a 
school in Pennsylvania for the preparation of youths 
for the Seminary at Baltimore, and these, sixteen 
in number, were, in 1809, transferred to the care 
of Mr. Dubois at the mountain. In two years the 
number of his pupils had risen to forty, in three 
years to sixty, and in five to eighty ; and the re- 
stricted course of studies pursued in its faint be- 
ginnings was enlarged to embrace Greek, French 
and Mathematics, in addition to Latin, the special 
language of the Church, and the ordinary branches 
of a good English education. 

It was no longer an experiment ; it was 
achieved ; — not achieved without toil, and great 
labor, and much hardship and many struggles; not 
achieved beyond the encountering of many future 
trials and difficulties; but the possibility of its suc- 
cess had been demonstrated, the way had been 
opened ana the path surveyed. Only strength and 
endurance were required now to bear up under the 
burdens of the work. Much had been done, but 
much still remained to be accomplished. A stran- 
# ger, and without money, he had seated himself 



JAMES Mc SHERRY, ESQ. 39 

upon the mountain side, had cleared away a site, had 
reared the humble walls of his log Seminary, had 
gathered round him teachers whom he paid and 
supported, and pupils, some of whom had but little 
means even to support themselves. Necessarily 
thus involved in debt, and trusting from day to day 
in the help which he might receive from God, but 
could scarcely expect from man, he struggled on, 
cheered by words of encouragement from men as 
holy and as poor as himself. But to the cares of 
his school and Seminary and his two congregations, 
have been added that of watching over the pain- 
ful beginnings of the sisterhood of Charity of St. 
Joseph's. In June, 1^09, mother Seaton removed 
a portion of her little community from Baltimore, 
and, while the plain dwelling was being finished for 
them on their land in the valley, occupied the 
house in which Mr. Dubois had first resided, and 
which he had vacated for the log Seminary below 
it. Thus the same humble dwelling was the first 
nursery of the two institutions, of this Mountain 
and yonder Yalley, whose charity and good works 
have poured out their beneficent treasures over the 



40 ADDRESS OF 

whole of our wide land. Its site is worthy of a 
memorial column, — and it need have no more glo- 
rious inscription than this, "Here stood the nursery 
of Mount St. Mary's and St. Joseph's." After the 
removal of the Sisters to their home in the valley, 
which took place during the summer, the labors 
of Mr. Dubois were increased by his necessary visits 
to them as their Superior'; but he was at length 
relieved of a portion of his duties by the arrival of 
Mr. Duhamel, a good French priest, who had been 
exiled to French Guiana, whence he came first 
to Hagerstown, in Maryland, and afterwards to 
Mount St. Mary's, and who took charge of the con- 
gregation in Emmittsburg. ^ 

At length Mr. Dubois began to enjoy the first 
fruits of his labors — to him the first trophies of 
his triumph. He was enabled, from time to time, 
to present a number of students fitted to prose- 
cute their theological studies at St. Mary's in Bal- 
timore, and was ere long assisted in his labors by 
teachers prepared under his own eye. But he is 
about to receive back his greatest treasure, whom 
he had possessed only long enough to estimate at 



JAMES McSHERRYj ESQ. 4l 

his full value. Mr. Brut 6, afterwards the saintly- 
Bishop of Yincennes, was another holy and learn- 
ed son of France^ who, declining the honors of the 
new empire; and cutting asunder the dearest ties 
of home and country, had exiled himself to the 
New World as an apostle willing to labor where 
laborers were most needed. In September, 1812^ 
he had been stationed at Mount St. Mary's, as the 
spiritual director of the sisterhood of St. Joseph's, 
and not only relieved Mr. Dubois of this portion 
of his arduous duties, but filled the post of a pro- 
fessor in the Seminary. Still, the growth of the 
institution, the burden of its debts, and the care 
of the mountain congregation, afforded enough oc- 
cupation to wear out energies less powerful than 
those of Mr. Dubois. Mr. Brute, after having 
shared his toils and labors for more than two years, 
was called by important business to France, and 
on his return, in 1815, was elected President of 
St. Mary's College, Baltimore. But his heart 
longed for the quiet shades of the mountain, and 
in 1818 he resigned the Presidency of St. Mary's 

College, and hastened to rejoin Mr. Dubois. 
2* 



42 ADDEESS OF 

Who will say that the spirit of prophecy does, 
not forewarn and guide the minds of the great 
and holy, or the hand of Providence direct the 
currents of their deeds into that channel which 
shall prove the most salutary and beneficent to the 
world? What result shall be grand enough for this 
conjunction of heavenly souls ? The brave heart, 
the unflagging energy, the unworldly prudence, the 
indomitable zeal, the patient vigor, the unwearied 
cheerfulness of the founder, are now to be reinforced 
by the immense learning, the admirable talents, 
the boundless charity, the intense self-devotion 
and self-forgetfulness, the wonderful humiHty and 
the saintly piety, which have already cast a halo 
around the name of the guardian angel of Mount 
St. Mary's. What manner of men shall these men 
rear ? Behold ! they are before the eyes of the 
world. Let the world judge of the tree by its 
fruits. 

Ten years have rolled on — the first of the five 
decades of the history of Mount St. Mary's has 
been passed through, in toil with courage, in de- 
pression with patience, in poverty with endurance. 



JAMES Mc SHERRY, ESQ. 43 

In the young nursery vigorous shoots are growing, 
thoroughly ingrafted with the spirit of the founder, 
destined in due time to be transplanted, and to 
mature in strength and beauty, until great cities, 
and congregations, and churches, and colleges, 
shall gather under their shade, and feed upon the 
rich fruit of their luxuriant branches. But at the 
closing of that first decade, all these glorious re- 
sults are yet in the womb of the future. He who 
labors for God must toil on in patient hope ! 
There may be many trials, many disappointments, 
many hopes baffled, sometimes, seemingly, entire 
destruction utter and irreparable. But heroic pa- 
tience and faith in God will conquer ; the consola- 
tion and the triumph will come in His own time : 
and every trial and difficulty will only set a brighter 
jewel in the crown of success. But in such a con- 
test it is only a hero who triumphs. Ordinary 
men go down amid the struggle, are trampled un- 
der foot, are pitied and forgotten. Heroes rise to 
meet the descending blow, grapple with the foe, 
wrest away the weapon that is to strike them, and 
wield it in their own defence ; tread circumstances 



44 ADDRESS OF 

Tinder foot, climb obstacles to make them vantage 
points in tbeir upward and onward march ; on 
the shield of faith receive unblenched the fiercest 
shocks of Nature's elements ; out of the wreck of 
promising fruition gather seedlets for a new crop of 
brighter hopes, and amid the ruins of the fairest 
structure, read only the lessons which shall make 
the succeeding effort perfect in its adaptation. 

Here there were two heroes of no earthly 
mould, precisely fitted to aid, sustain, and cheer 
each other. If the hand of the worker and 
founder shall grow weary, and his heart overbur- 
dened with many toils shall falter, the holy lips of 
" the Guardian Angel '' of the mountain shall 
whisper into his ear prophetic words of consola- 
tion, shall strengthen his soul with rays from his 
own spirit, which has grown strong in patient med- 
itation, before the altar of yonder Mountain church. 

Who shall now tell of the communings of 
those two holy hearts, those two spiritual heroes, 
as day by day they watched the growth of their 
flourishing Seminary and school, and marked with 
still deeper interest the progress of those whom 



JAMES Mo SHERRY, ESQ. 45 

they were training up to take their places, or to 
be sent into the great mission of the world to labor 
in the uncultivated vineyard, or of those younger 
hearts that were year by year going out from 
under their wings, to try their frail fortunes on the 
sea of life. How painfully they shall question 
fiiturity, whether those youthful souls shall steer 
steadily onward through the dark and troubled 
waters, lighted by faith and with eyes fixed upon 
the beacon of the Cross, or whether, when the 
moorings have been cast off, and the safe harbor 
and good pilot left far behind, they shall drift 
away gradually but hopelessly from their course, 
and in despair casting away chart and compass, 
perish among the rocks before their middle pas- 
sage has been run ; or whether, then, looking back 
afar over the turbid deep as it bears them on to- 
wards destruction, they shall catch a faint glimpse 
of the beacon Cross, such as they saw it in youth 
upon this mountain- side, gather new courage from 
the sight, and after many struggles regain their 
course, and find once more beneath it, peace, re- 
pentance, and repose. 



46 ADDRESS OF 

These two have each a father's cares, both, in- 
deed, for all, but Mr. Brute especially for those 
who, under his guidance, are preparing themselves 
for the sanctuary ; for the Mountain Seminary 
has ceased to be subsidiary to St. Mary's at Balti- 
more, and the greatest and most learned theolo- 
gian on this side of the Atlantic, he himself " led 
its pupils through the vast halls of the queen of 
sciences." Thus, hand in hand, step by step, 
they move along, their students increasing in 
numbers, the teachers formed under their care 
growing in power and efficiency, and sending forth 
annually able and zealous priests to fill the vacant 
missions. 

The log houses, increased to two rows, have 
become too small, and, strong in faith, Mr. Du- 
bois commences the erection of a massive building 
of stone. He has secured many friends, but has 
never been sustained in his arduous labors by 
wealthy societies, nor by generous contributions. 
His school and Seminary have not been fostered or 
endowed by public liberality, or by State or coun- 
I ty donations. He looked not for it now ; but re- 



JAMES McSHEBRY, ESQ. 47 

solutely, as when years ago in more vigorous life 
he first planted the Cross upon the mountain-side, 
he gathered the materials, dug the foundations, and 
pressed on the work to its completion. The night 
of the 6th of June, 1824, closed over the building 
now almost ready for occupation, and joyous eyes 
looked on it er# they rested in sleep, and hopeful 
hearts longed for the dawning morn when they 
were to possess the long-desired home — the palace 
on the mountain-side. Perhaps every heart was 
too triumphant, for the crowning trial had come. 
The morning sun arose upon a scene of terror and 
desolation. The fair walls of the noble structure 
were blackened with the furious flames that went 
roaring through the wide halls' and goodly corri- 
dors, streaming from every window like red ban- 
ners of destruction, bursting from floor to floor, 
licking up with fiery tongues, column, and cornice, 
and cupola, until all sank down into one mass of 
smoking and frightful ruins. Those who saw the 
horrors of that night have said, that while the 
heart beats and memory holds her power, it will 
never be forgotten. Into the grave itself will go 



48 ADDRESS OF 

one recollection, like a vision seen and impressed 
for ever on the brain, of a face calm and composed 
amidst the wild strife of the element, and the 
shouts of those who in vain struggled with its pro- 
gress, lit up by the flames that were destroying 
the fondest hopes, upturned towards heaven, 
seemingly radiant with the heroic patience, sub- 
mission, and courage of his God-sustained spirit. 
" The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away ; 
blessed be the name of the Lord ! " he said — but 
he added : " There were defects in this ; I will 
remedy them in the next." But who shall ever 
know the anguish of that good heart, or measure 
the wonderful courage that never dreamed of fal- 
tering even in that frightful moment, when other 
men might well have yielded to despair ? But 
there was no pause with him. The ruins were 
scarcely cold before the work of reconstruction was 
commenced. 

Struck by the appalling loss to this good man, 
whom all had learned to lote, perhaps, too, begin- 
ning to feel a pride in the possession of an institu- 
tion already winning fame abroad, the people of 



JAMES Mc SHERRY, ESQ. - 49 

the vicinity, without distinction of religion, came 
to his assistance, and subscriptions flowed in 
from various sources, but far from sufficient to 
cover his heavy losses. At least it relieves him, it 
is consolation, and assures him of sympathy. A 
new and larger building is erected ; and, in 1826, 
Mr. Dubois takes possession and opens the studies 
of the scholastic year within its walls. 

Now, surely, in his advancing age, for the 
snows of more than sixty years have whitened his 
hair, he shall have rest and repose in the pleasant 
home he has completed, cheered by the sight and 
society of those whom he has reared around him 
to share his cares and relieve him of his burdens. 
Surely, now he has earned the right to repose in 
peace under the shadow of his beloved mountain, 
to inhale its healthy breezes and refresh his weary 
lips with its pure waters, after eighteen years of 
such varied trials and labors. Surely, in this re- 
tirement, placing its responsibilities in the hands of 
some of that faithful and numerous band whom he 
has so well prepared to bear them, he may watch 
in calm repose the progress which the sons of Mount 



50 ADDRESS OF 

St. Mary's are already making in every portion of 
the land ! What but death can now sever him 
from the home he has planted and beautified with 
so much toil and suffering ? Duty ! Obedience ! 
The lesson he had so long taught, he well knows 
how to practise. He is appointed Bishop of New 
York : he bows his head and goes, tearing his 
heart-stringSj a second time, from what he loves 
best on earth. At least, he can watch over his 
dear mountain from afar. At least, he can be 
there in spirit, and in the holy union of prayer 
and sacrifice, when he ascends the altar in his dis- 
tant cathedral ; and he will remember that a band 
of chosen hearts around yonder shrine bear him 
gratefully in mind, and breathe his name in every 
whispered orison. At least he will return to visit 
it, and mark its growth again and again, from his 
vast and growing diocese, when, hereafter, one of 
his own great mountain pupils shall come to share 
that burden which is weighing down his wearied 
shoulders, and with giant strength shall bear it 
lightly on his own. 

So far the history of Mount St. Mary's Col- 



JAMES Mo SHERRY, ESQ. 51 

lege has been the history, the very biography, of 
its venerable founder. His heart is still with the 
work, but its guidance shall henceforth be in other 
hands. He has no fears, for his mantle has fallen 
upon one of his chosen pupils. It is a great trust, 
but his successor has around him a group of worthy 
brethren, who shall carry it on bravely for years, 
and leave it in still increasing vigor to others no 
less zealous and efficient, who have been formed in 
the same school. As the venerable Founder stands 
for the last time, for years, upon those spacious 
terraces his hands have helped to fashion from 
the mountain-side, and gazes around on the 
changed aspect of the scene — upon the massive Col- 
lege with its flanking rows of log dwellings ; upon 
that beautiful garden with its ever flowing waters, 
which he has laid out and perfected with so much 
toil ; upon the house far up the hill-side, first hum- 
ble nursery of Mount St. Mary's and St. Joseph's, 
both already grown so great ; upon that moun- 
tain Church, which rose above them all, he may 
have gone over in memory all his toils, and count- 
ed the whole cost of patience and of labor, and 



52 ADDEESS OF 

weigMng them with their wonderful results, might 
well have thought them all repaid. Eighteen 
years before, when he had commenced his labors 
here, with the holy hope of supplying priests to the 
destitute Church, there were but sixty-eight in the 
one diocese stretching from Maine to Greorgia, 
from the Atlantic to the far West. In those 
eighteen years he had sent forth more than forty 
zealous missionaries, either entirely or in great 
part, prepared in his still youthful Seminary. 
Forty well-trained, brave-hearted, learned and 
earnest priests have gone forth from this spot, 
which shall ever in after life be the Mecca of their 
hearts, cheering them in every difficulty and trial, 
with memories of the great spirits who were their 
models and their masters ; to which they shall turn 
with thankful hearts and joyful recollections, even 
when death shall bring nigh to them their reward, 
when all their works are done. But he may look 
beyond this ! How many congregations shall 
these mountain missionaries gather together ; how 
many churches shall they rear ; how many dio- 
ceses shall they occupy and build up ; how many 



JAMES Mo SHEER Y, ESQ. 53 

wandering souls shall they bring within the fold, 
and how many more sons shall the mountain 
yet send forth to add to the roll of names that are 
to become glorious, whether in the mouths of men 
or in the sight of angels ! He might well be con- 
tent to depart — ^for, here, he has filled a sufficient 
space of usefulness — and go forth to renew 
the same trials and difficulties, to overcome the 
same destruction, and to rise again triumphant 
over circumstances and obstacles, and portentous 
fate itself, by his all-conquering faith in God : and 
at length, having looked upon the full glory of all 
his work, no longer doubtful, no -longer embar- 
rassed, but full of vigor and success, quietly close 
his eyes in peace, leaving behind him the rich 
treasure of his memory to sanctify this spot made 
more than classic by his labors. • 

The founder has departed from the Seminary, 
but its guardian angel. Mi*. Brute, stilL remains 
to watch over the progress of the work, until eight 
years later he too shall be called to wear the mitre 
and bear the crosier in a laborious diocese of the 
far West. 



54 ADDRESS OF 

Mr. Dubois was succeeded as President, by tbe 
Kev. Micbael DeBurgo Egan, who had been trained 
from his youth in the institution over which he now 
ruled with a spirit worthy of the teachings and ex- 
ample of his venerated master : but declining health 
interrupted his labors, and the hand of death in a 
distant land gently closed his eyes, and brought re- 
pose to his mild and loving spirit. But there was 
no pause in the progress of Mount St. Mary's ; its 
success no longer depended upon the life or energy 
of any one man, however great and good. Origi- 
nally founded mainly for the preparation of aspi- 
rants to the priesthood, its admirable adaptation 
to the education of youth^ its seclusion from the 
temptations of the busy world, its healthy location, 
and the reputation of its rulers and teachers, had 
caused the Academy attached to the Seminary to 
grow with great rapidity. Its prosperity, and its 
wide-spread fame as a classical school, justified 
those who now guided its destinies in appealing to 
the legislature of the State for corporate and col- 
legiate powers. Another pupil of Dubois and 
Brut6, another of that great class destined for 



JAMES Mc SHERRY, ESQ. 55 

Bishoprics and Arclibishoprics, the Eev. John B. 
Purcell, now the venerated Archbishop of Cincin- 
nati, then presided over the fortunes of Mount St. 
Mary\s with a firm and energetic hand, but loving 
heart, and in the session of 1830 obtained the first 
charter for the College. And now Mount St. Mary's 
stood complete and perfect in its full proportions : 
and I remember well, although amongst the young- 
est in the long ranks of pupils, and just freshly 
entered, how each one, to the smallest there, felt 
a prouder thrill and shared in the new dignity as 
he pronounced the name of " Mount St. Mary's Col- 
lege." From ten years of age to the class of grad- 
uates about to receive the first diplomas, we were 
all Collegians, we were no longer Academy boys — 
no longer pupils at the Seminary ; we threw up 
our good old-fashioned leather skullcaps, which 
are now only a sort of myth and mere tradition 
here, and loudly cheered for our new honors. And 
when the commencement came, it was a proud and 
an affecting spectacle to look upon those young 
graduates, waiting modestly to receive the certifi- 
cates of their first degrees, while the list was read 



56 ADDRESS OF 

of those who liad long since earned, but only now 
at last could receive their honors from the old 
mountain mother, which had not yet forgotten 
them. 

Henceforth the current flows more smoothly at 
the mountain ; there are fewer difficulties to con- 
tend with, and, year by year, the way begins to 
open more clearly through them. Various improve- 
ments are made, a society library and a reading- 
room are opened ; and a fine and costly apparatus 
is imported form France for the departments of 
Natural Philosophy and Chemistry, which are 
placed under the charge of the amiable and learn- 
ed Dr. Anthony Hermange, whose memory is dear 
to many a pupil of the mountain. But a Bishop 
is to be chosen for the diocese of Cincinnati, and 
all eyes turn instinctively to Mount St. Mary^s, and 
rest upon its President. He goes forth from its 
quiet shades to bear the honors and the heavy 
burdens of the episcopate, to breast every foe of the 
faith with the weapons of learning and eloquence, 
which he had so well fashioned and tempered by 
these sparkling and pure waters, until he should 



JAMES MoSHERBY, ESQ. 57 

soar aloft, the eagle of tlie Queen City of tlie West. 
And it is not long before another son of the moun- 
tain, already standing at bay among a crowd of 
fierce assailants, crushing one here and there with 
his mighty power, and brushing others from his 
path, goes to the relief of the aged and venerable 
Dubois, in the great city of the Union, marching 
steadfastly on his way, seeking no encounters but 
shrinking from none, sweeping away [the meshes 
of his foes like cobwebs in his path, until scourged 
slanderers and maligners tremble and grow pale 
at the echoing voice of the lion-hearted Archbishop 
of New York 

In the meanwhile, the College progressed un- 
der the direction of the Rev. Francis B. Jamison, 
and the Eev. Thomas R. Butler, until 1838, when 
the present venerable President took the helm, to 
guide it to a still higher degree of prosperity than 
it had yet attained. Of that long period, I 
may not here speak as I would wish ; but, twenty 
years ago, I stood within that other well remembered 
hall, the scene of many an exhibition, concert and 

reception, the old haU of study, and received with 
3 



58 ADDRESS OF , 

others from his kind hands, the first diplomas he 
conferred — to-day I look around me in this beau- 
tiful hall, and from yonder terrace, scan the grand 
proportions of this new range of buildings, I mark 
the rising walls of that noble Gothic temple, I count 
the numbers of these crowded ranks of generous 
youths — and all things speak to me and you, his 
and his brethren's best eulogium. I have need 
therefore to be silent. In the future, lies the full 
development of all that they have done ; the 
fruitage of their rearing and watering is yet to 
ripen fully, when the youths who have passed 
through their hands shall have become the matured 
guides and leaders of their generation. Then, 
on some other anniversary, shall their names and 
their pupils be honored as we now honor the mem- 
ory of Dubois and Brute, by gathering additional 
laurels for them, out of the glory and good deeds 
of those whom they have trained ; and all shall 
even then revert back, under God, to those two 
heroic and saintly men who first planted here the 
seed that has already borne such goodly fruit. 
Who can measure all the great results of this 



JAMES Mo SHERRY, ESQ. 59 

holy work ? "Who can tell how much the progress 
of this institution has been interwoven with and 
assisted the growth of the Church in the last fifty 
years — from its humble and weak beginnings to 
its present strength and vigor ? Glance back upon 
that gloomy period when hope almost seemed like 
folly ; when, in the rude log huts here, Dubois 
and Brute gathered their little classes round them. 
Foretell, if you are bold enough, the fortunes of 
those studious and unknown youths ! There are 
men there, who shall fill a nation's eye, and send 
the echo of their fame across the ocean into the 
halls of the Yatican. There are men there, who 
shall carve out great Sees where then no altar was 
yet reared; who shall build Churches where the 
Cross had been unknown, or else despised ; who 
shall rear other Colleges where the oaks of the 
primeval forests were then still untouched ; who 
shall found and complete great Cathedrals, and 
schools, and hospitals, and orphan asylums, and 
unnumbered institutions of religion and charity, 
where yet the poor and humble Catholics hide their 
destitution in by-ways and alleys. There are 



60 ADDRESS OF 

otliers there, wlio will remain by the old hearth- 
stone to keep watch and ward, and feed the flame 
upon the altar of science and religion. Year by 
year, shall these men go out from the Seminary to 
their allotted paths. Fifty years ago, Bishop Car- 
roll and his coadjutor, sixty-eight Priests and one 
hundred and twenty thousand people, in one dio- 
cese, formed the Church in the United States. At 
this day, in its great Hierarchy, there are, of the 
sons of Mount St. Mary's, two Archbishops and 
eight Bishops, ruling over ten dioceses and more 
than six hundred thousand souls. Wonderful ful- 
filment of the prophetic hopes of the saintly foun- 
der ! Out of his toils and labors have sprung great 
results, growing up gradually, and spreading wider 
and wider, until on this day his spirit may look 
down upon us and behold the little commencement 
which he made to aid the Church, under the hand 
of Grod, so swelling its dimensions, that the portion 
within the rule and guidance of his children has 
extended to five-fold the whole of its strength and 
numbers on the day when he laid the first founda- 
tions of Mount St. Mary's, 



JAMES Mc SHERRY, ESQ. 61 

In this period Mount St. Mary's has sent forth, 
including her two founders, thirteen Bishops and 
Archbishops, and more than one hundred Priests 
from her Seminary to swell the ranks of the hierar- 
chy and priesthood ; and two thousand pupils from 
her classic halls, armed with moral and intellectual 
training to fit them for the encounters of the 
world. New York, and Albany, and Brooklyn, 
and Providence, on the north ; and Yincennes and 
Cincinnati, and Erie, and Chicago, on the west ; 
and Kichmond, and Wheeling, Savannah, Coving- 
ton, and Natchez on the south ; have each been 
bound to this spot by memories of benefits re- 
ceived which will not soon be forgotten. The his- 
tory of those who have gone to rest after their la- 
bors, has been written in their good works, and 
those who are yet among us are day by day adding 
to the great records of their usefulness. Who can 
reckon up the labors of those hundred venerable 
Priests, and measure the flood of blessings which 
they have caught up here and poured with lavish 
hands across the Continent. Imagination cannot 
compass it, but angels have recorded it. And of 



62 ADDEESS OF 

those two tliousand youths wlio have passed 
through the halls of Mount St. Mary's, whose feet 
have trodden smooth yonder level terraces, or 
climbed yon beaten pathway to. the mountain 
Church, how many have pursued the tracks of use- 
ful life and earned an honorable reputation ! Some 
there are whose eloquent voices have been heard in 
the halls of legislation, or in the crowded forum,— 
or who, with dignified decorum, have worn the ju- 
dicial ermine ; some whose names are enrolled 
among the merchant princes of the land ; some 
who have won high diplomatic honors ; some who 
have made themselves names in literature and sci- 
ence; and some whose manly forms breasted the 
rude shock of battle, turned back the impetuous 
charge of hostile masses, and on land and sea 
poured out their blood beneath their country's flag. 
And here pen, voice and sword, judicial ermine, 
philosophic lore, the cassock, crosier, mitre, all 
gather and commingle, to add a brighter lustre to 
the old Mountain Home. Here many hearts re- 
turn to pay their homage to the Sainted Dead, 
mindful of the blessings they have received through 



JAMES Mo SHEER Y, ESQ. 63 

their toils and labors. Dubois ! Brute ! names 
holy to many memories ! How great the triumph 
of those of your children who can look back from 
this day to the period of your early struggles, 
which they bore and suffered with you ! Founder 
and Guardian Angel are not here in body with their 
children, to enjoy this triumph ; but their names 
are breathed by many voices, are whispered in the 
gentle breezes of this sacred spot, hymned by the 
murmuring mountain streams and the pure gush- 
ing fountain, graven on every stone, written, but 
not in sand, on every mountain pathway, remem- 
bered by the waiKng dirge of the funereal pine, the 
bending chestnut and the rugged oak, as their 
branches sigh at the touch of the mournful winds a 
requiem for those who walk no more beneath their 
shade. But their spirits are still here, watching 
over and blessing the great work they so well com- 
menced ; and their devotion, their energy, their 
learning, and their love and hope, like the proph- 
et's mantle, have descended upon those who grew 
up at their feet, and learned from them to bear it 
on manfully to its final and assured success. 



BY GEOEGE H. MILES, ESQ. 

READ AT THE SEMI-CENTENNIAL CELEBRATION OP MOUNT 
ST. MARY'S COLLEGE EMMITTSBURG, MD., OCTOBER 6, 1858. 



3* 



ALADDIN'S PALACE. 



Aladdin's Palace, in a single night, 

From base to summit rose ere morning light, 

A pillared mass of porphyry and gold, 

Gem sown on gem, and silk o'er silk unrolled ; 

So from the dust our young Republic springs, 

Before the dazzled eyes of Eastern Kings. 

Not like old Rome, slow waxing into state. 

The century that freed beholds us great, 

Sees our broad empire belt the western world. 

From main to main our starry flag unfurled ; 

Sees in each port where Albion's Sea- Kings trail 

Their purple plumes, Columbia's snowy sail. 

Three deep the loaded decks our long wharves line, 

Three deep on buoyant hoops fast flounces shine. 

While thrice three-story brown stone proudly tells 

The tale of Mammon's modern miracles, 



6S Aladdin's palace. 

Marking full fifty places in a square 

Where the born beggar dies the Millionnaire. 

'Tis not enough with trellised wires to span 

Niagara for the steaming caravan ; 

'Tis not enough to ravish from the sky 

A courier fleeter than Jove's Mercury, 

Our course is onward, for our soxils are free ; 

We ape not Amru pausing at the sea. 

The earth o'ercome, let ocean's tides be taught 

Submission to the mightier waves of thought ; 

We and Britannia governing the rein, 

Grod's wildest creature wears the human chain. 



But yet remember, glorious as we are, 

Aladdin's Genie left one window bare, 

And we, perchance, upon a close review, 

May find our Palace lights unfinished too, — ■ 

Some slighted panel in the stately hall, 

Some broidered hanging stinted on the wall, 

Nay, e'en some jewels gone, that graced us when 

Ail men were free here — even gentlemen. 

Each age must have a Martyr for its prey — 

Authority's the scape-goat of io-day. 

Mourn for the Murderer ! Crown the tuneful Fool ! 

The only sin unpardoned — ^is to rule. 

The bully's blade's the sceptre of the street, 

But yet, praise God, the Mayor preserves his seat ; 



ALADDIN'S PALACE. 69 

Bend the meek head to insult and hard knocks, 
But mount no guard around the Ballot Box. 
Name any wish to any dog in power, 
Thrice bid him grant the boon or rue the hour ; 
If still the tyrant spurn the just demand. 
Cap the Revolver — swing the hissing brand. 
What though each fevered wretch for mercy prays, 
His death-bed crackling in the midnight blaze- 
On with the work — if there be guilt at all, 
It was to build, not burn, the Hospital ; 
Full half the Press are thundering through the flame, 
The Ruler, not the Rebel, is to blame. 
Will no kind Atheist come preach and print ! 
A prudent Papist dare not more than hint — 
The world, that feebly damned that savage scene, 
May one day miss its Maker's Quarantine. 

Waked from her revels, weary of her woes, 

France asked a Ruler and a Ruler rose, 

No theorist enamored of a dream. 

But born and schooled to govern and redeem. 

Secure the harvest waved, the vineyard blushed. 

E'en envy slept, in waking glory hushed. 

As once again the victor eagles flew 

And Malakoff retrieved lost Waterloo, 

As toward the Tomb the Island Queen drew near 

And cancelled Saint Helena — with a tear. 



70 ALADDIN'S PALACE. 

Kings heard a voice, " Respect the Parvenu^'* 

And despots, deaf to all the Ked-capped crew, 

Started- to find, fresh carved upon the throne, 

The People's sovereign name above their own. 

Need Freedom blush for this ? Shall Pierri's shell 

Flame 'neaththe Chariot and the world cry "Weill " 

Oh Albion, never yet thy stout lungs sent 

A cheer so faint — so nearly a lament ! 

Forgotten then the great-coats and canteens. 

That warmed thee shivering through Crimean scenes : 

Forgotten too the Panthers of Bosquet, 

Cresting the hill just ere thy Guard gave way. 

Why even we who cried, ^^ Let Tyrants learn! " 

Hung fewer garlands round Orsini's urn. 

The Chief whose arm insulted Law defends. 

Crowned or uncrowned, may rank with Freedom's friends 

The knave that schemes all Order's overthrow, 

Whate'er the badge he boasts, is Freedom's foe. 

Hail Wordsworth, prophet of the rural reed, 
The Boy is father of the Man, indeed. 
' Of all the slaves with whom our country's curst, 
Pater-familias stands supremely first : 
Proud of his bondage, tickled with his chains. 
The parent cringes while the stripling reigns. 
Down with the Dotard I consecrate the Boy ! 
Since Age must suffer, let bright Youth enjoy. 



ALADDIN'S PALACE. 71 

Drink morning in ! — old eyes were meant to wake : 

Shake hands with ruin ! — old hearts never break. 

Welcome the worst — 'tis but to close the door 

And pack the outlaw to some College-Cure. 

Alas ! the tutor apes the parent fool, 

The idle birch hangs rotting in the school : 

Touch the young tyrant — like Olympian Jove 

The avenging sire defends his injured love, 

Clutches a cowhide, contemplates a suit, 

Talks wildly of a martyr and a brute,— 

The worst disgrace his free-born son can know 

Is not to merit, but receive a blow ; 

Honor, that prompts the pistol, damns the rod — 

Let beasts alone divide the scourge — with God. 

Achilles saved, what next ? Go home and rear 
That up-town palace ? — Why, you're never there. 
Down by the docks your home is o'er the desk 
From morn to night, curled like an arabesque. 
Spinning the rich cocoon for child and wife, 
Though, like the worm, the tribute cost your life. 
Crawl home at midnight, to the basement go, 
Hug the lit fender, toast the slippered toe. 
One well-earned moment rest the throbbing head, 
Thougb all the ceiling own the Lancer's tread. 
Or dare the ball-room, you'll not spoil the feast, 
'Tis the old story — Beauty and the Beast : 



72 ALADDIN'S PALACE. 

That Lion leaning o'er my Lady's chair 

May start — but she will never know you're near. 

Perchance some fopling compliments your taste, 

His easy arm around Miss Mary's waist, 

Admires your Elliott, wonders how he caught 

Your mouth's full meaning — " Ah, I re-aul-ly thought 

Those sheep were Ommegancks ! " — Back to your den 

Your girl's far wiser cheek was tingling then. 

Better be dead than ope those honest eyes 

To half your marble mansion's mysteries. 

Press your lone pillow, scheme to-morrow's pelf, 

Your daughter, trust her, can protect herself: 

Dread neither foreign Count nor native Fool, 

Her heart was buried at a Boarding School. 

Ah, not for nothing that smooth cheek's decay — 

She knows too much to risk a runaway. 

While beauty lasts, perchance, the Young Moustache 

May spoil the cooing of the Man of Cash ; 

But trust to time — your wrinkled belle will take 

Some solid soul — some bank that cannot break, — 

And reign the darling of a dull adorer, 

Precisely as her mother did before her. 

From private morals pass to public taste, 
One jewel missing, can the next be paste? 
A race of readers we can surely claim 
A dozen writers with a world-wide name, — 



ALADDIN'S PALACE. 73 

One drama that can hold the stage a season, 
Two actors that confound, not rant with reason,-^ — 
A minstrel equal to an average air. 
An artist that has brains as well as hair ? 
Alas ! the river where the millions drink 
Flows from a Helicon of tainted ink. 
Lower and lower the darkening stream descends, 
Till, lost in filth, the sacred fountain ends. 
Who reads Andrea ? — here's a penny tale 
That melts the milkmaid o'er her foaming pail. 
Who weeps with Luria that can weekly sob 
With all the victims of Sylvanus Cobb ? 
To " In Memoriam " why trembling turn 
When fonder pathos flows from Fanny Fern ? 
Why wake the organ wail of Hiawatha 
When piping Publishers resume the author ? 
And what in turn cares genius for the age ? 
Boz gaily rattles off his five pound page, 
Pendennis lazily dictates his story. 
Sure of his pay, superbly dead to glory ; 
O'ershadowed Browning, sickening in the van, 
Sheds Ariel's wings to roll with Caliban ; 
Autumnal Bryant prattles at his Post, 
Stern Hawthorne slumbers, in the Consul lost ; 
Quick Willis pops the convalescent pun, 
Putnam expires in pictured Emerson, — 
Though, father Phoebus, still thy splendors shine, 
While quivered satire burns in Butler's line ; 



74 Aladdin's palace. 

While Clio deigns witt stateliest wing to glide 

Down the deep stream that rolls by Sunny Side ; 

While humor, flashing from the Autocrat, 

Saves ten dull essays with one genial chat, 

While, scattering song o'er Cragie's tranquil waters, 

The Western Muse still keeps the old Head Quarters. 

But peace to parchment — ^bid the canvas gleam, 
The pen rebellious let the brush redeem. 
Imperial Art thy highest hope record ! — 
Behold a primrose dots the dewy sward. 
Raphael dethroned, what triumphs now decree ? 
The twilight's bronze on blossomed cherry tree. 
Madonnas done with, Magdalens forbidden — 
Lo, yonder rock in reverend mosses hidden. 
Ah, sweet to think when time and reason blight 
The budding of the last Pre-E-aphaelite, 
When Ruskin, that incarnate photograph, 
Forsworn, forgot, has laughed his final laugh, 
Those wondrous Dresden eyes shall still, as now, 
Teach saints to worship, infidels to bow, 
That Babe transfigured on the Virgin bosom 
Outlive the daisy and the apple blossom. 

Kings rule the East, the Merchant rules the West, 
Save round his hearth, supreme his high behest. 
For him the captive lightning rides the main, 
For him rent mountains hide the screaming train, 



Aladdin's palace. 75 

For him the placer spreads its golden sands, 

The steamer pants, the spicy sail expands ; 

For him the quarry splits the moaning hill, 

For him Laborde imports her newest trill. 

Submissive science smooths his lordly path, 

States court his nod and Senates dread his wrath : 

Erect, undaunted, eager, active, brisk, 

A front for ruin, nerve for any risk. 

Shy of the snare, impatient of the chance. 
The world a chess-board 'neath his eagle glance, 

Armed with a Ledger — ^presto pass — he carves. 
And spends ten fortunes where a genius starves. 
No robber knight that ever drove a-field 
Bore braver heart beneath his dinted shield. 
Atilt with fortune, if he win the prize. 
The turnpike trembles, marble cleaves the skies, 
Or, lost both stirrups, let him bite the plain, 
His dying song still " Lobster and Champagne ! " 

Oh land of Lads, and Liberty, and Dollars, 
Oh Nation first in schools and last in scholars, 
Where few are ignorant yet none excel. 
Where peasants read, and statesmen scarcely spell, 
Of what avail that science light the way. 
When dwindling Senates totter to decay, — 
Like some tall poplar withered at the head, 
Our middle green, but all the summit dead. 



76 ALADDIN'S PALACE. 

We do not ask that mind and manners meet — 

Utopian dream — in every Justice seat ; 

In troubled times 'tis not to be expected 

That Law and Grammar be at once protected : 

We can endure that barristers dispense 

Tropes, neither rhetoric nor common sense, 

While all the rabble bolt the fluent store 

Of broken image, battered metaphor, — 

But, great Diana, "when we're only known, 

In courts where Adams trod and Franklin shone, 

By mute Ambassadors who grandly scorn to 

Maim any language but the one they're born to ; 

When laughing Europe vainly would escape 

Yankee sublime refulgent in red tape. 

Might not the torch that fired the Ephesian Dome 

Be well employed — a little nearer home ? 

Of what avail the boast of steam and cable, 

If doomed to grovel neath the curse of Babel ? 

Low droops our Eagle's eye to find us still 

Cowed 'neath his wing — by Albion's gray-goose quill. 

Why boast of Britain foiled on Bunker crest. 

Her pen still rules the Kebel of the West. 

Slaves of her press, our liberty of speech 

Is but to echo what her journals preach ; 

Our Chinese hopes, our Continental news, 

Diluted drivel from her worst Reviews ; 

Our leaders thin decoctions from the Times 

Set to the very tune the Master chimes : 



ALADDIN'S PALACE. 77 

Bomba's a beast — Feretti a poor drone — 

Austria's young Caesar tripping on his throne — 

The Man of Destiny, a sceptred curse, — 

Spain's Queen, a crowned coquette — or something worse ; 

In fine, too native for all foreign Muses, 

We see creation but as England chooses. 

Ye who have sipped the sweet Horatian page, 
And burned with Juvenal in Roman rage ; 
Ye in whose bosom glows the true antique. 
Whose solid armor's laced with genuine Greek, 
Whose souls, high reaching to the fountain, find 
The classic secrets that still sway mankind, — 
What though the public hail with languid praise 
Your prim orations or primeval lays ; 
What though Reviews, with accents soft as silk, 
Skim all your cream and then reject your milk ; 
What though your polished pen scarce earn a garret, 
While Double Entry points to peace and claret ; 
What though the heart, too long condemned to ache 
For mocking chaplets, ask but leave to break ; 
What though a faction swear no Papal stone 
Shall grace a pillar vowed to Washington — 
Toil on ! — ^before the crowning cope is set 
That shaft may need some Roman Cement yet : 
Toil on — toil on — there's no such word as fail, 
Heaven sends the wind if we but set the sail : 



78 Aladdin's palace. 

Toil on, — the world's best laurels only bloom 
Above the mound that marks the Martyr's tomb. 

Know ye the fields that smooth the Pilgrim coast, 
The lawn's soft slope in azure Ocean lost, 
The garden bounded by the billow's foam. 
The gables stately as a Baron's home ? 
Approach : along the corn-land and the wold 
October dies in crimson and in gold ; 
That giant elm has scarce a score of leaves 
To shade the voiceless nest beneath the eaves. 
See the bright Sabbath morning silent break, 
Save where the wild-fowl fans his tiny lake, 
Save where, with ceaseless wail, the warning sea 
Chants its one awful word — " Eternity.'^'' 
Ah, Seth, unload the rifle — coil the line — 
Let the coot fly — the haddock lash the brine — 
O'er the mute hills untracked the wild deer run — 
The Angler sleeps — thy^ Hunter's deeds are done. 
Steal in with muffled tread — the struggle past — 
Released from thought, the grand brow rests at last. 
As rests in Abbey aisle some brave broad shield, 
A nation's buckler on the battle-field. 
No shroud surrounds him — ^he has gone to rest. 
As heroes love to go, in harness drest : 
Folded the hands that never rose in wrath ' 
Unless to sweep a traitor from his path ; 



Aladdin's palace. 79 

Dim the dark eye before whose rapt command 

Disunion, like a spectre, fled the land. 

God grant that Julia's self the father meet 

Since Julia's image may no longer greet ! 

God guard that -willowed slab by Marshfield's wave, 

"Where He still lives beneath his laurelled grave ! 

God send some faithful heart, some fearless spur, 

To fill the void of that one Sepulchre ! 

The Forum yawns ! Come Curtius, to thy work ! 

Fate summons the Collegian — not the Clerk. 



Green be the Hero's grave ! — But who shall paint 

Our greater loss — that purer gem — the Saint ? 

We who are wholly plunged in pious labors, 

Who plume ourselves and meekly peck our neighbors, 

Whose outward life, so gravely circumspect, 

Proclaims — our title clear — the sole Elect ; 

We who, knee-deep in spiritual feasts, 

Bewail the shallower ecstasies of Priests ; 

We who serenely chant the rights of laymen, 

While pastors starve and Bishops drudge like draymen ; 

We have no sins — no zealots that behold 

A Cream cheese in each shepherd of the fold, — 

No pale devotes to chronicle the fancies 

That gild the seraph lips of Father Francis. 

The fiery Frank may fall, the Spaniard slip, 

O'er Pagan shafts the stumbling Koman trip, 



80 ALADDIN^S PALACE. 

The sturdy Belgian truckle to the State, 
But Yankee Papists are immaculate. 
We shrink from Sue and Sand, our only care is 
To sigh with Kempis or to sift with Suarez : 
With j&ction false to faith we never grovel, 
Our lightest reading, the religious novel : 
We count our soul-refreshing tales by scores. 
Where heroes sin not — save in being bores; 
Where heroines sing like controversial linnets, 
Converting heretics in twenty minutes, — 
Here Agnes answers to the Convent Bell — 
There jilted William meditates a cell. 
But let a Man stand up and lash the age, 
Let reason rule and truth inspire his page. 
Let folly quake to hear his lordly tread. 
And captive error hang her hydra head ; 
Then, just so long as our celestial selves 
Escape a drubbing, Brownson tops our shelves, 
But once the scourge on our own shoulders laid — 
Stop the Review ! — Grag the gray Renegade ! 

Yes, praised be type and steam, our blindness o'er 

The Catholic world is wiser than of yore. 

No simple Barons now corrupt the Church 

By leaving rich relations in the lurch ; 

No stricken Knight, with half remembered prayer, 

Beats his broad breast and makes a Monk his heij?, 



ALADDIN'S PALACE. 81 

Fie, fie, Sir Hugo, like a cut-throat live, 

Then, dying, bribe thy Maker to forgive ! 

Tempt not the skies with gifts, — we never do — 

Heaven asks no largess — just a tear or two. 

Our peaceful fingers guiltless of the sword, 

What call for alms to pacify the Lord ? 

The Priest stands ready harnessed- — naught to pay — 

Since He who gave disdains to take away. 

Let pompous heretics by will provide 

For School and Mission, — we have no such pride . 

Enough for us, our earthly errand run, 

To pass an untithed purse from sire to sou. 

Too modest t(f bestow lest men applaud. 

Faith just too feeble to invest with God, 

Just zeal sufficient to shun godless knowledge, 

And just too little to endow a College, 

Hugo may pamper Abbots with his acres, 

Ours shall be anybody's — but our Maker's. 



In darker Ages, when the morning dews 
Of Faith were fresh upon the world, when pews 
Were yet unborn, our simple fathers thought — 
Such ignorance belongs to souls untaught — 
That the true aim of pious decoration 
Should be the Minster — not the congregation. 



82 ALADDIN'S PALACE. 

Since then the riper Flock, far wiser grown, 
Neat brick and mortar, mimic chiselled stone, 
Yon altar angel kneels in florid plaster 
Where cherub wings once shone in alabaster. 
But let the ceiling gape, the organ jingle, 
The lazj spire at last ascend in shingle, — 
Glance down the nave — survey the sacred scene- 
One billowy sweep of lace and crinoline. 
Each tiny hat half hidden in its feather, 
Bright as a daisy beaming through the heather — 
Out with the Kose or Oriel's lesser lustre, 
Here all the colors of the rainbow cluster. 
Yet say not Faith hath wholly quenched her fires 
When Albany's Twin Minsters lift their spires, 
When fast responsive to the Mitre's beck. 
Each man stands ready with his cheerful check ; 
Prompt as the Spartan at his country's call, 
A hundred come — a hundred thousand fall. 



When the good Caliph all his coffers brought, 
And, gem in hand, his turbaned craftsmen wrought 
When vainly jewelled with a Kingdom's store, 
The unfinished window clamored still for more, 
Aladdin called the Spirit that begun 
His radiant Palace, and the work was done. 



Aladdin's palace. 83 

So here the sail may gleam, the minstrel sing, 

The Forum close, the victor warrrior bring 

His wreath, — but still the Temple of our sires 

An Artist mightier than man requires. 

We too must call our Spirit. G-lance around — 

The terrace at our feet is hallowed ground : 

Climb that green hill, — those levelled walks that glide 

Around the Chapel — by the torrent's side — 

That shaded mound where still the Grotto stands — 

All these are relics now, touched by the hands 

That led alike the shriven soul to grace. 

Or smoothed the frown from Nature's erring faca 

Question the valley — hear how oft there trod, 

Missal in hand, along the weary road, 

A swift, frail shape, on some new mercy bent. 

That seemed to smile with angels as it went. 

Go farther — pierce the aching world beyond 

The circle of those calm blue lines that bound 

This Sanctuary — count the mitres — scan 

The vast results of that one Heaven-sent man. 

Ask mountain laymen deep in stocks or deeds 

"Why still they wear their medals, tell their beads ; 

Ask that gray band of Priests what trumpet call 

Beneath Christ's standard ranged and armed them all ; 

Ask either Prelate whose command controls 

The Christian being of a million souls, 



84 Aladdin's palace. 

Who first inspired his half unconscious feet 
To tread the heights where flamed the Paraclete ? 
Hark ! Prelate, Laymen, Priest, together say — 
The Angel Guardian of the Mount — Brute. 



My friends, Aladdin's Palace needs such men : 
The Saint at work, 'tis finished — not till then 



fjttitt §^i. 

BY REV. CHARLES C. PISE, D. D. 



LATIN ODE 



INTRODUCTION. 

On rising to recite tlie Latin Ode which it has fallen 
to my lot to prepare for this extraordinary celebration, I 
can with difficulty control the emotions that agitate my 
breast. 

Upwards of a quarter of a century ago, I found my- 
self the Professor of Rhetoric and Poetry in this our 
then youthful Mountain Seminary. Among those who 
composed my class, I need hardly say, there were many 
very promising young men and ingenuous boys. 

After the lapse of that long period, I appear again, 
within these classic halls, in my pristine capacity. Once 
more I put on, as it were, the mantle which I left behind 
me, and which has been so long in the possession of my 
distinguished successors : and in the presence of some of 
my contemporaries, and of this literary and respectable 



88 LATIN ODE. 

assemblage, I stand up to deliver an Ode, in the language 
of the Church, which, I suspect, is more fraught with 
thrilling reminiscences than classic inspiration. Some 
of those then promising young men are now illustrious 
Prelates, and learned Priests of the Church ; and some 
of those ingenuous boys who embraced a secular life, may 
now be ranked among the distinguished men of the land. 
So exciting are the associations and reminiscences that 
surround me on every side, that I deem it more expedi- 
ent to stifle my feelings, and proceed, without further in- 
troduction, to my somewhat difficult, but yet exceeding- 
ly agreeable task. 



AD ALUMNOS. 

IN MEMOEIAM JOANNIS DUBOIS, ET SIMONIS G. BEUT:6, COL- 
LEGII SANCTiE MAEI^ AD MONTES FUNDATOEUM. 

Non usitato congredimur modo, 
His in jugosis at9[ue sacris locis, 
Hasque inter umbras hospitales, 
Insolitum celebrare festum. 

Votis benigni Praesulis obsequens 
Almae Parentis progenies suae 
Aras juventutis Laresque 
Magna iterum pietate visit. 



LATIN ODE. 89 

Sunt qui remotis deveniunt plagis, 
Lsetique demum, post seriem baud brevem 
Annorum, avito ducti amore, 
Limina nunc repetunt beata. 

Oil ! quae reductum, musa, nemus colis, 
Fons unde jugis splendidior vitro est, 
Cujus, die ac noctu, susurrans 
Lympha salit gelidis ab antris ; 

Tu quas docebas me, Cytbaras modia 
Ardore plenum, carmina fervida 
Aptare, Iseta sub juventa, 
Nunc a^e, numine nunc secundo, 

Adsis Poetae, dum geminos cano 
Et litterarum sedis et artium 
Hujusce magnos conditores 
Carmine perpetuo e£ferendoSv 

Clari bonique Laud intereunt viri ; 
Quamvis eadem lege necessitas 
Imos et altos sortiatur, 

Fama manet, nioritura nunquam. 

Vixere fortes rebus in arduis, 
Duram scientes pauperiem pati, 
Nullo fatigati labore, 
Et pueris senibusque eari. 



90 LATIN ODE. 

Damnosa amorem non minuet dies, 
Nunquam paternam eradet imaginem 
Gratis alumnorum repostam 
Cordibus sere perenniorem. 

Patres videntur quipp^ superstites 
Nobis adesse ; agnoscimus undique 
Formas ; et audimus loquentes, 
Dum Zephyris agitatur aer. 

Quam dulce, lapsis tot, volucri fug^, 
Annis, juventam, sollicitudinis 
Cuj usque, in amplexu Parentis, 
Immemores, renpvare nostram ! 

Sedes beatae ! rura virentia ! 
Saltus opaci collium, amoenaque 
Vallis, recedentesque rivi 
Montibus, irriguique campi ! 

Dilecta nobis otia ! quae Patres 
Fecere, quorum jam indomitus vigor 
Silvas humi stravit, ferarum 
Turn latebras, posuitque tecta. 

Molis stupendae exordia cemite, 
Cujus per orbem gloria spargitur : 
En Alma Mater, tot, deinceps, 
Eximios genitura natos ! 



EEV. CHAS. C. PISE^ D. D. 91 

En durae origo dura propaginis ; 
Hinc quanta nostris temporibus bona 
Omnique derivata sasclo, 
In populum patriamque manant. 

Intaminatus fulget honos Patrum, 
Qui sedis hujus moenia, tarn rudis 
Quam exilis olim, collocabant, 
Amplo bodie spatio patentis. 

Tales abeno non monumento egent, 
Sculptisve signis marmore ; facta sed 
Praeclara, virtutesque rarae, 

Pulcbra quidem monumenta stabunt. 

Ut sera discat Posteritas, tamen, 
Quantis merentur pignoribus decus 
Quod nee futuri aevi silerent 
Lustra, nee attenuet vetustas. 

Votiva, faustis auspiciis, Deo 
^des dicatur, quae memoret Patrum 
Laudes et immortale nomen, 
Dum steterint juga montis alta. 

Hue turba alumnorum innumerabilis 
Sese quotannis conferet, ut preces 
Effundat ante aram, et supinis 
Vota Deo manibus rependat. 



92 LATIN ODE. 

Magna asmulari quisque fideliter 
Hie gesta discat, dum reputaverit 
Exempla Patrum quae vigebunt 
Per memores eelebranda fastos. 



OF REV. A. L. HITSELBERaER. 



SERMON OF REV. A. L. HITSELBERGER. 

" Remember your prelates who tave spoken to you the word of 
God ; considering well the end of their conversation, imitate their 
faith." — Heb. xiii. 

Bretheen and Friends in Jesus Christ: 

The pilgrim who scans the noblest basilica of 
Rome, admires the grandeur of the design, the 
magnificence of the work, the beanty of the adorn- 
ments, which symbolize the excellence of his re- 
ligion. But if, through reverence for the spirit of 
holiness which abides within its walls, he descends 
into the crypts which underlie that famous tem- 
ple, he discovers the origin and type of those up- 
per glories, the treasury of all that his mind es- 
teems and his heart venerates : he peers into " the 
caves of the earth,"* where his fathers prayed, and 
labored, and suffered, and died : he sees the dark 

' Heb. si. — . 



96 * SERMON OF 

and narrow catacombs lighted up with the splen- 
dors of that faith which came from God, and swell- 
ing into the broad and lofty proportions of pros- 
perous Christianity. Then, as he kneels before the 
shrine of the twin martyrs of Eome, the uncon- 
quered champions of the Cross, he honors the 
names and memory of Peter and Paul : he ac- 
knowledges devoutly that " God is wonderful in 
bis Saints ; " that " his friends are made exceed- 
ingly honorable, their principality is exceedingly 
strengthened."* 

And thus, if at the end of fifty years we sur- 
vey admiringly the fabrics of religion, the institu- 
tions of learning, the homes of piety which illus- 
trate and sanctify the land — if we gather into one 
view the merits, virtues, good works of eminent 
men, who drew inspiration from a common Catho- 
lic source, we need but to visit this sylvan and 
hallowed spot to find the first idea of these blessed 
results, the origin of generous impulses and meri- 
torious deeds, the beneficent and exemplary min- 
istry of two humble Priests, the founders and 

* Ps. Ixvii. 138, 



EEV. A. L. HITSELBERGER. 97 

Apostles of Mount St. Mary's, " witli one mind 
* laboring together for the faith of the gospel/'^ 

And standing here to-day, not as aliens but as 
friends ; not merely as friends, but as kinsmen ;' 
not merely as kinsmen, but as members of the 
household and children of these saintly men, we 
cannot fail, as we meditate on the past, to bow 
down before the majesty of their virtues and the 
beauty of their lives ; to feel the pathos of their 
voices, which speak from hill, and dale, and plain, 
from rock, and tree, and the walls which surround 
us — nay, from our own hearts, full of sweet mem- 
ories : " Remember your prelates who have spoken 
to you the word of God ; considering well the end 
of their conversation, imitate their faith/' We 
cherish, then, this day, suggestive of holy and 
grateful thoughts ; we gather around the altar to 
celebrate it with smiles and tears, as a festival of 
the heart ; when " we praise men of renown, and 
our fathers in their generation."^ 

The sentiment of St. Thomas is confirmed by 
many examples in the Holy Scriptures, that God, 
^PHl. i. — . "EccLxUv. — . 



98 SERMON OF 

who proposes the end, inspires the motives, chooses 
the agents for the accomplishment of enterprises • 
redounding to his glory, eminently qualifies them 
for the functions of their high estate. It is less 
man than God who, by his infused virtue, wrought 
the wonders of ancient times, in Moses, Joshua, 
David, Solomon ; and in the Apostles in later 
days, enlightening them by his wisdom, arming 
them with his power, " in mensuram plenitudinis 
Christi,"^ as the visible hand of the Deity stretched 
forth luminously from the clouds to magnify his 
name on the earth. He adopts, at least partially, 
the same economy in the spiritual as in the mate- 
rial world, in the offices of religion as in the oper- 
ations of nature, the uses of science and art, the 
commerce and government of society. 

Half a century since a man, silent and musing, 
stood on these acclivities and planned a great un- 
dertaking. When he opened his lips to reveal the 
thoughts of his heart, listeners questioned him, as 
men questioned the Apostle of old ; ^^ Who are 
you ?" He says : " As my imperfect speech betrays, 

* Eph. iv. — . 



KEV.A. L. HITSELBERGER. 99 

a stranger and an exile." " What do you project 1 " 
" An institution whicli, like the rock at the base 
of this hillj shall pour forth sweet and copious 
streams from many mouths." " What means have 
you at command?" "My heart is rich in hope, 
but my hands are empty." " What- friends will 
aid you in your undertaking? " " I am alone and 
powerless." " What then is your trust, what 
your resources ? " He looks upwards, with a rapt 
and confiding eye, as he answers, "Only Grod." 
The questioners smile at the schemes of the vision- 
ary ; they predict disappointment and failure. 
Why is he sanguine and they doubtful of success ? 
Ah ! " the sensual man perceiveth not the things 
that are of the spirit of God."^ "He is of the 
earth, earthly," and he limits his thoughts to the 
surface on which he treads : or, if he looks higher, 
it is only at the horizon, where earth mingles with 
sky, and even celestial objects are distorted through 
a misty medium. But that " man of God mind- 
ed the things that are above, not the things that 
are on the earth : "* he gazed on the heavens 

^ 1 Cor. ii. ~. « CoL iii. — . 



100 SEKMON OF 

where his faj;]ier dwelt, and whence in other days, 
and on his native soil, a sound reached his ears ; 
" Go forth out of thy country, and from thy kin- 
dred, and out of thy father's house, and come into 
the land which I shall show thee. And I will 
magnify thy name, and thou shalt be blessed/'* 
He had obeyed that command, without repug- 
nance or demur. Was the promise made void 7 
Let the Almighty answer ; "I have given my 
spirit upon him. It showed him the kingdom of 
God, and gave him the knowledge of holy things, 
and accomplished his labors."^ And what was that 
spirit ? Faith, my brethren ; faith, the life of 
John Dubois. "The just man lives by faith.''^ 
That faith had taught him to know God and his 
own soul ; to study the end of his being and the 
relations which bind man to his Creator ; to con- 
form his interior and exterior to the teachings of 
religion. That faith determined him to consecrate 
himself, like another Samuel, to God, whose gran- 
deur he adored, whose beauty he admired, whose 
providence he loved, whose glory he longed to pro- 

* Gen. xii. — . ' Isaiah xlii. Wis. x. — . ' Heb. x. 



REV. A. L. HITSELBERGER. 101 

mote in tlie salvation of souls : " making known 
tlie odor of the knowledge of Jesus Christ in every- 
place."^ This faith inspired him with a love of the 
virtues Becoming his age and state ; of prayer, 
study, labor, seclusion ; of purity, and gentleness, 
and obedience — winning man's smiles and God's 
favor. This faith of the just man, lifting him 
above the world, whose worthlessness he discerned, 
whose blandishments he resisted, bade him aban- 
don country, and home, and kindred, and friends, 
and '^ all things to foUow Jesus Christ ; " crying 
out with the martyr Ignatius, " I desire none of 
these things which are seen.'' And why ? Be- 
cause, says St. Paul, " the things that are seen are 
temporal, but the things that are not seen are 
eternal."^ Like the stream hurrying to the deep 
sea, like the flame upleaping to the purer sky, he 
sought " the substance of things hoped for : he 
looked to the reward." ^ And what was that ? 
With St. Thomas, when he was asked by the Al- 
mighty what reward he would have, he answered ; 
" None but thyself, Lord." 

' 2 Cor. ii. — . ^ 2 Cor. iv. — . " Heb. x. xi. — . 



102 SERMON OF 

But was tMs faith, nominal, inert, dead ? Ah ! 
he knew that God had said to his minister : " Thou 
ehalt not appear empty before me."^ He knew 
that God had " chosen and appointed him to bring 
forth fruit, and that that fruit should remain.''=^ 
He knew that, though he had all gifts and worked 
all miracles, "without charity he was nothing." 
He knew that the life and soul of the saints was 
" faith working by charity : "^ that faith which 
overcame the world, crowded the earth with tro- 
phies, and sounded the paean of victory over hell. 
And as actions spring from love, love from esteem, 
esteem from frequent reflection on the honor, and 
gain, and delight, to be obtained in the divine ser- 
vice, he deemed, with a thoughtful appreciation of 
heavenly things, no labor excessive, no hardship 
intolerable, no sacrifice impossible for him who 
"lives in the faith of the Son of God."^ Where 
is the chronicler to relate the triumphs of his 
apostleship in a wide and rugged region — the mer- 
its of his disinterestedness, self-denial, zeal, pa- 
tience, charity,-^the heroism of that missionary 

? Exod. xxiii. — . ' John xv. — . ' Gal. v. — . * Gal. ii. — . 



REV. A. L. HITSELBERGER. 103 

life, " sanctifying tlie gospel of God among the 
gentiles/'^ by whicL. he could say : " We exhibit 
ourselves as ministers of God, in much patience, in 
tribulation, in necessities, in distresses, in labors, 
in watchings, in fastings, in chastity, in long-suf- 
fering, in sweetness, in the Holy Ghost, in charity 
unfeigned, in the word of truth, in the power of 
God. As sorrowful, yet always rejoicing, as 
needy yet enriching many, as having nothing and 
possessing all things/ '^ 

The world decrees an apotheosis to its fallen 
chiefs, and reels like a drunkard with joy over the 
showy history of their achievements. But for this 
"hidden man of the heart, who had not run in 
vain, nor labored in vain,"^ this humble, faithful 
Priest, there is no voice, no record, no memorial. 
The lonely stream, the dark morass, the tangled 
wood, the mountain path, are silent ; and town, 
and hamlet, and farm-house, the scenes of his 
apostolic labors, but faintly echo his name. His 
deeds are not blazoned on vellum, nor printed in 
books, nor graven on enduring brass and monu- 
* Rom. XV. — . ^ 2 Cor. vi. — . U Pet. iii. Phil. ii. — . 



104 SERMON OF 

mental stone. What then ? Oh ! happier lot : 
they are written on the souls of men ; they are in- 
scribed on the book of everlasting life ; they are 
treasured in the heart of God. Could sympathy, 
pure and sincere, be expressed ; could love and 
gratitude, in testimony of good works, be revealed, 
the living would proclaim his praises with glowing 
tongues : the dead would arise from their graves 
to attest his virtues, to salute him as a true evan- 
gelist, to syllable his name as the friend, and 
teacher, and guide, and consoler, who had sancti- 
fied and saved them. " Be patient, therefore, 
brethren, till the coming of the Lord. Behold, the 
husbandman waiteth for the precious fruit of the 
earth." ^ 

By this ordeal God tried ^^ his faith, more pre- 
cious than gold which is tried by the fire ;'^ tried 
him and found him worthy of himself"^ Could 
the father then refuse the son what he desired ? 
" Because thou hast done this I will bless thee."^ 
Behold him " now according to the grace of God 
which was given to him, a wise architect, laying 

^ James v. — . '1 Pet. i. — , ^ Wis. iii. — , * Gen. xxii. — . 



REV. A. L. HITSELBERGER. 105 

the foundation ^'^ of his projected work. To his 
experienced eye a twofold want was manifest,—- the 
want of instruction for the young laic whose des- 
tiny is cast in the world ; the want of instruction 
for the Levite who is called to minister at the 
altar, — a twofold want which he deplored and 
studied to supply. When the spring is poisoned, 
can the stream be pure ? Can the fruit be sound 
and wholesome when the worm imbeds itself in 
the green core ? If " the child is father of the 
man/' the corruption of the young is an immiti- 
gable curse. The world was yet aghast at the 
horrors which had clouded the sunny land of 
France with the hot breath of blood and of torrents 
of tears : and to the perversion of her children, 
uneducated or indoctrinated with execrable prin- 
ciples, the moralist, and patriot, and Christian, 
mainly ascribed that dire catastrophe which had 
involved, in one ruin, the blessings and hopes of 
religion, national prosperity, social honors, domes- 
tic peace and happiness. The future founder of 
Mount St. Mary's had seen the misery which 

» X Cor. iii. — . 
5 



106 SERMON OF 

he could not alleviate ; tlie wounds whicli lie could 
not Ileal. Like Jesus Christ, " seeing the city he 
wept over it."^ But he could prove the benefac- 
tor of his adopted country by averting or dimin- 
ishing the same evils which menaced our Catholic 
population. Permitted to grow up unrestrained, 
and in ignorance of essential truths, it must needs 
become a perverse generation ; educated in cities, 
where the heart, from the relaxation of parental 
authority and the enjoyment of inappreciable po- 
litical franchises, is tempted to riot in the luxury 
of freedom ; and in schools, where bigotry is ram- 
pant or religious instruction ignored ; where sys- 
tem, association, example, conversation, studies, 
amusements, unnoticed by a guardian eye and un- 
controlled by a friendly hand, lie like coiled vipers 
in the path of the inexperienced and unwary, 
deadly mischief is inflicted, error becomes endemic, 
vice hereditary. He foresaw this, he feared it ; 
"his spirit, like PauFs, was excited within him, 
seeing the city given up to idolatry."^ And lo ! a 
College rose in the midst of the wood ; unadorned 

Luke xix. ^ Acts xvii. — . 



REV. A. L. HITSELBERGER. 107 

with fa9adej or peristyle, or cupola, to make it im- 
posing without ; devoid of modern elegances, to 
make it attractive within ; a long, low, rude log- 
house, like the hunter's lodge on the confines of 
civilization. But what was this to the light- 
hearted and hardy race which occupied it .^ Was 
it not the dwelling of the good, and amiahle, and 
happy ; of a father and his children, — children re- 
ceived into arms as tender, and to a heart as loving, 
as those from which they came ? Was it not the 
home of generous sensibilities, and sympathies, 
and friendships ; the repository of science, art, 
and letters ; the sanctuary of religion and fruitful 
piety ? There, with the hum of glad voices and 
the sound of classic recitations, were heard from a 
good man's lips, purified by celestial fire, the words 
of holiest instruction and the accents of fervent 
prayer. Is this a phantasm of the brain or a dream 
of the night ? After the lapse of years, it comes 
vividly before the mind's eye, as if we still moved 
and had our being in those familiar and endearing 
scenes ; like the chambers of cities in Southern 
Italy disinterred to the light, wearing freshly the 



108 SERMON ^ OP 

habits of domestic life, as of yesterday ; and echo- 
ing, it seems, with the footsteps of recent inmates. 
It is a blessed reality : though the old College has 
mainly disappeared, and many of the sojourners of 
that epoch are slumbering in their graves. Let us 
glance at the past. Adopting the admirable and 
well-tried system of his own country, our dear old 
father offered, in this pure and secluded abode, the 
advantages of a solid scholarship with the accom- 
plishments, in time, which give it grace ; combin- 
ing the pride of the Academy with simple forms ; 
the dignity of the Professor with the frankness of 
home intercourse ; the vigilance of the Prefect 
with the honesty of the friend ; the reverence of 
the student with the confidence of the cliild. And 
thus he united his pupils in the sheaf of hearts, 
himself the wreath which held them bound : with 
talent, tact, kindliness, affection ; with order, disci- 
pline, and exactness ; with a smile and a frown at 
times struggling for the mastery on that benevo- 
lent face ; with counsel for the ignorant, encour- 
agement for the diligent, reproof for the idle, cor- 



REV. A. L. HITSELBEEGEK. 109 

rection for the perverse; — "all to all/' ^ priest, 
father, friend, president, teacher, companion, "a 
pattern of the flock from the heart."^ Ah ! " we 
know what manner of man he was among us for 
our sakes."^ 

Now in the class room, or the study room, 
mindful of his own collegiate honors, and of the no- 
ble use which he had made of his attainments, he 
descanted on the excellence and utility of learning ; 
but he admonished us, " that all men are vain in 
whom there is not the science of God ; that with 
knowledge which puffeth up, professing themselves 
to be wise they become fools ; "^ that the science 
of men and the science of the saints must be ever 
side by side, like the twin stars in the zodiac, 
shining with simultaneous and blended radiance 
on the earth. Now in the play-ground and in 
their merry pastimes, he suddenly appeared among 
his pupils, — half awed, half delighted by his pres- 
ence — till bright smiles, and winning words, and 
sportive acts, chased away diffidence, in the sense 
of his benignity : " we become little ones in the 

' Cor. ix. — . n Pet. V. — . ^ ^ 1 Thess. i. — . * wis. xiii. ; 1 Cor. 
viii. Rom. i. — . 



110 SERMON OF 

midst of you, as if a nurse should, cherish her 
children/'' 

See him at the evening exercise of " spiritual 
reading,^' as he opened his heart to show its good- 
ness and moral beauty to the assembled family ; 
spoke so feelingly of our native land, and the per- 
manent home to which we were journeying ; 
marked the path which led to this happy end — 
the means to aid, the obstacles to impede, our 
steps ; the virtues to be cultivated, good works to 
be performed; passions to be controlled, habits 
corrected, vices extirpated: —by which life would 
be made pleasant and profitable ; death, sweet, 
calm, fraught vdth immortality : or again in this 
venerable Church, whose floors were sanctified " by 
the feet of him that preached the gospel of 
peace ; ''^ whose walls cry out from every stone, 
"the good and comfortable words which he 
spoke,*' ^ when, Sunday after Sunday, the devoted 
shepherd fed his flock with sweet and wholesome 
herbage ; gave to his youthful charge homilies on 
which the wise might meditate and grow wiser ; 

^ 1 Thess. ii. — , * Rom. x. — . ^ Zach, i. —. 



EEV. A. L. HITSELBERGEE. Ill 

homilies on religious and moral duties, on the love 
of God and our neighbor — sober, yet deeply inter- 
esting, artless yet persuasive ; and thus, whilst 
" he commanded his children and his household 
after him to keep the way of the Lord, and do 
judgment and justice,''^ forming the pious Catho- 
lic and Christian gentleman, the Patriot and the 
Saint. Oh ! if we may apply to him the language 
apphed to his Divine master, " was not our heart 
burning within us, whilst he was speaking to us in 
the way ? "'■ 

Can we forget him, when we knelt confidingly 
by his side to pour into his fatherly breast the con- 
fession of our faults ; when he counselled, consoled, 
encouraged, absolved us ; and we went forth wiser 
and better, assured that "virtue had gone out 
from him, and that he had healed us ? "^ Can we 
forget him at the altar, where " he offered to God 
a sacrifice by which he obtained a testimony that 
he was just,"^ and prayed fervently for the children 
whom, like Moses, he was leading through the 
desert of life to the promised land 7 Can we for- 

^ Gen. xviii. — . ^ Liike xxiv. : vi. — . ^ Heb. xi. — . 



112 SERMON OF 

get him when, like the same leader of an elect 
people, " signed with the light from the counte- 
nance of God/'^ he fed us with the waters of Ho- 
reb and the manna from above ? Can we forget 
him on that memorable day of our first com- 
munion, when renewed in his happy youth, flushed 
with a divine enthusiasm, melted into tears of ten- 
derness, he permitted to gush forth the emotions 
of his .soul, and, like Elias, called down fire fi:om 
Heaven on the coldest heart, to make it a holo- 
caust acceptable to God ? But above all, can we 
forget him in the priceless boon which he gave us in 
the knowledge and love of Mary, the immaculate 
Queen of angels and men ? Oh ! did he not love 
her, extol her, serve her ? Mary, whose name is 
uttered by every tongue, treasured in every breast, 
honored in all devotions, praised and exalted in all 
actions, within this consecrated domain, — Mary, 
the patroness of this institution and the mother of all 
its children, is our friend and benefactress, because 
she was his ; our heritage, because his treasure ; 
" the seal which he bade us put on our arms and 

^Ps.iv.-— . 



EEV. A. L. HITSELBERGEK. 113 

on our hearts."^ " Where our treasure is, shall 
not our hearts also be ?"* 

Pardon, my brethren, the mention of self, in 
view of that incomparable blessing to which I 
cling with a fond and grateful devotion. If there 
is a memory charged with recollections of Mary's 
goodness ; if there is a heart which ought to throb 
with a sense of Mary's unceasing love, I may ven- 
ture to say they live and beat in him who now ad- 
dresses you. In the vicissitudes, and labors, and 
dangers, and sorrows of many years, no one, per- 
haps, has drawn larger draughts than he from the 
fountains of God's mercy ; no one, perhaps, more 
than he, has received light in darkness, strength 
in weakness, solace in affliction, indulgence in his 
errors : and when he looks up inquiringly for the 
Comforter, Advocate, Dispenser, to whom, under 
God, he is indebted for all these graces, he sees 
the face of the gentlest of mothers, whose eye is 
beaming on him, whose hand is stretched forth to 
succor him, whose voice, soft and persuasive, whis- 
pers in his ear, " In me is all grace of the way and 

*Caati viii. — . ' Matt. vi. — . 

5* 



114 SERMON OF 

of tlie trutli ; in me is all liope of life and of vir- 
tue. I love them that love me. I walk in the 
ways of justice, tliat I may enrich, them that love 
me. He that shall find me, shall find life, and 
shall have salvation from the Lord."^ Hov/, then, 
can I fail to love her, bless lier, publish her 
praises .^ Yes ! Mother, purest and dearest I 
the tongue must be palsied, and the heart be 
frozen in the grave, when I cease to own thee as 
guardian and benefactress ; when I forget him, the 
devout client, the father of my youth, who taught 
me to know thee, salute thee, claim thee, as " our 
life, our sweetness and our hope ! " 

The College of Mount St. Mary's was estab- 
lished, but the venerable founder had not yet ob- 
tained " his heart's desire."^ The work was in- 
complete ; the body needed a soul, to produce 
union of faculties and perfection of design. An 
institution for the education of young ecclesias- 
tics, was a higher object, worthy of his ambition 
and his love. He saw before him an abundant 
harvest of souls. Nay, with a prophet's ken, pen- 

^ Prov. viii. ^ Ps. xx. — , 



REV. A. L. HITSELBERGER. 115 

etrating the future^ lie saw the boundless expanse 
of golden grain waving for the mowers : but alas ! 
the laborers were few. He knew that "faith 
comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of 
God ; "^ but without men to preach that word, — 
duly selected, trained, sent,- — the world could not be 
evangelized nor souls saved. Now this work de- 
manded, for successful accomplishment, rare mer- 
its, eminent virtues, constant and self-denying 
agents. The very name of Seminary and Priest 
imports a character of excellence, imposes gravest 
obligations. Who was to direct the one, to animate 
the other ? Vf here was the master artist to 
choose the block from the quarry, and chisel it into 
the form, and grace, and energy, of life ? It is an 
engrossing labor, and, though competent himself 
in knowledge and virtue, earnest in the grand con- 
ceptions of a brave and resolute heart, he could 
spare little time from multiplied duties, but to 
superintend the plan and co-operate in the execu- 
tion of the undertaking. What was he to do ? 
" It was necessary that he should have a Priest, 

^ Rom. X. — . 



116 SEKMON OF 

holy, innocent, separated from sinners ; a prudent 
and faithful servant, whom the Lord would place 
over his family ; a man filled with the Holy 
Ghost, attending to reading, to exhortation, to 
doctrine ; whose lips should keep knowledge, and 
at whose mouth men should seek the law/'^ Who 
will be his helper ? He has no misgivings, but, 
like Abraham, exclaims ; " God will provide/^^ 
And God did provide. We read in the 4th 
Book of Kings, as follows : " And Jehu, the king 
of Israel, found Jonadab, the son of Kechab, com- 
ing to meet him, and he blessed him. And he 
said to him : Is thy heart right as my heart is with 
thy heart ? And Jonadab said. It is. If it be, he 
said, give me thy hand. He gave him his hand. 
And he lifted him up to him in the chariot. And 
he said : Come with me and see my zeal for the 
Lord. So he made him ride in his chariot.''^ In 
like manner, God, who had associated for a great 
purpose these men of upright will — Jehu anoint- 
ed by Elias to destroy the house of Achab, figure 
of the wicked ; and Jonadab, the father of a 

^ Heb. yii. Luke xii. 1 Tim. iv. Mai. ii. — . ^ Gen. xxii. — . 

^ -1 Kings X. 



EEV. A. L. HITSELBERGER. 117 

saintly progeny — who, in subsequent times, sent 
his disciples two by two before bis face to teacb and 
bless tbe world, brought to John Dubois, in his ex- 
igencies, a friend, and brother, and coadjutor. 
Who was this new Jonadab ? Simon Brute, ^^ be- 
loved of Grod and men :" whose name thrills our 
souls; "whose memory is in benediction/'^ But 
who and what was Simon Brute ? A gifted child 
of God, a vessel of election, an apostle of Christ, 
in whom scholar, priest, and saint, may be regard- 
ed as synonymes. From earliest days " he had 
been nursed up in the words of faith and of good 
doctrine,''^ with singular purity of heart ; and his 
youth was proved and confirmed in holiness, amid 
scenes of terror which appalled the most robust 
spirit, and deeds of impiety which led the old and 
the wise astray. The trial matured his thoughts 
and feelings into masculine virtue, as the intense 
heat of the sun forces the vegetation of northern 
climates into rapid and luxuriant growth. Mov- 
ing, a young confessor of the faith, through trage- 
dies which sundered rudely the tenderest ties, and 

^ Eccl. xlv. — . ^ 1 Tim. iv. — . 



118 SERMON OF 

exposed the vanities of earth, he communed often 
with God : enlightened, invigorated by the graces 
of Eehgion, like St. Francis Xavier, meditating 
on that pregnant question, " What doth it profit 
a man if he gain the whole world and lose his 
soul ? "^ he dedicated himself to a higher service, 
and began to exercise himself in the humility, 
self-abnegation, and zeal for God's glory, which 
signalized his entire life. If we pause to ask, to 
whom, apart from the grace of Jesus Christ, he 
owed these normal ideas, these pious sentiments, 
that magnanimity which prompted him to cast 
aside scholastic laurels, the distinction of an hono- 
rable profession, the preferments proffered by the 
hand of power, and the secular aggrandizement 
which eminent talents, education, and integrity, 
quahfied him to win, saying, " what things were 
gain to me, those I have counted loss for Christ ;"* 
we find as answer^ another Eunice, worthy of the 
praises of the Apostle, when she had consecrated 
her child to his Creator ; we learn that, like Greg- 
ory of Nazianzen, Augustine, Thomas of Aquin, 

^ Matt. xvi. — . 2 Phil. iii. — . 



KEY. A. L. HITSELBERGER. 119 

Bernard, Francis of Sales, and a host of great and 
holy men, he drew these recreative and sustaining 
lessons from the fountain of a saintly mother^s 
love. To her admirable counsels and ministrations 
he ever turned with grateful tenderness. And 
shall we not unite our homage to his, to honor that 
noble-minded woman, that loyal mother ? The 
mother ! Ah ! we know the meaning of that fa- 
miliar word, sweeter than honey to the mouth, 
than music to the ear ; a simple history of home 
and its endearments, of sleepless devotion, of mul- 
tiplied anxieties, and labors, and sacrifices, which 
we read and re-read, through long lapses of time, 
till our eyes are filled with tears and our hearts are 
overflowing with emotions of joy and grief All 
else may fade away, all else be corrupted, all else 
be forgotten ; but the vision of the mother, in dark- 
ness, never grows dim : her influence is always 
pure and ennobling, amid our very wanderings ; 
her memory is ever green and living, in the vicis- 
situdes of life, in the blight of our affections, and 
over the grave of our hopes. The mother ! 
visible providence of God, alleviating the sorrows 



120 SERMON OF 

of our race ; — sign and assurance that man is di- 
vine in his origin and end ; — character uneffaced 
of original justice ; — -bond of union still unbroken 
of heaven and earth, of the creature with the 
Creator ! 

Overleaping times and places to which we can- 
not advert, though they are full of interest and in- 
struction to all, we mark the epoch when, " lifting 
his eyes to the mountain of God, which he was 
worthy to ascend,"^ this great and good man as- 
sumed his post in the ecclesiastical Seminary of 
Mount St. Mary's. It was my happiness, and 
yours, brethren of the olden time, to draw wisdom 
from his lips, " in those days when the wells of 
water flowed out."^ "You know how he taught 
us, teaching the things which concern Jesus 
Christ."^ Viewing him as the possessor of rare in- 
tellectual powers, comprehensive, tenacious, clear, 
analytic ; as a student exploring, with quick eye 
and steadfast intent, the mysteries of science — se- 
verely diligent in his habits, at cost of comfort, 
food, and sleep ; as a scholar rich in " the treas- 

^ Ps. xxiii. — . ^ Eccl. 1. — . ^ Acts xx. — . 



EEV. A. L. HITSELBEEGEE. 121 

ures of knowledge and understanding of justice/'^ 
yet, like Moses, " instructed in all the wisdom of 
the Egyptians/'^ -^^ might marvel still at his va- 
ried acquirements, his elegant accomplishments, 
his immense erudition, which seemed to embrace 
mind in all its extent, and matter in all its modi- 
fications, " ludens in orbe terrarum,'^^ did we not 
know that, like St. Bonaventure, he could point to 
the Crucifix as his teacher, or, like St. Thomas 
Aquinas, acknowledge that he owed more to prayer 
than to study, more to heaven than to earth. 

With what prodigality of learning he quick- 
ened and illustrated the principles which he had 
educed with dexterous hand, in his sermons, lec- 
tures, conversations, letters ; sublime yet humble, 
eloquent yet unaffected ; eager to communicate to 
others "the knowledge of a wise man, which 
abounds as a flood ; "* but, like St. Augustine, 
" seeking Jesus Christ in his books," and " making 
us fit ministers of the 'Kew Testament, not in the 
letter but in the spirit I^ Be zealous for the bet- 
ter gifts. And I yet show you a more excellent 

^ Eccl. iv. ~. ^ Acts vii. ^ Prov. viii. — . * EccL xxi. — . 
^ 2 Cor. iii. —- . 



122 SEEMON OF 

way."^ What was this way ; what this spirit ? 
The way and the spirit of the true ecclesiastic. 
None impressed on his disciples more strenuously, 
yet gently, amiably, with the frankness of the 
Apostle and the unction of the Saint, the remem- 
brance of their dignity and duties, as the salt of 
the earth, the light of the world, the lamps of the 
sanctuary, the ambassadors of the Most High, the 
ministers of Christ and dispensers of the myste- 
ries of God. Because none perceived, with an 
acuter vision, the character of a divine priesthood ; 
the vocation which singles us from the throng to 
be associated with God ; the solemn vows which 
bind us irrevocably to his service ; the august ti- 
tles and honors which surpass all the dignities of 
earth ; the sublime functions which we perform in 
the sanctification of souls ; the excellent virtues 
which we are bound to exhibit in the person of 
Christ, as his apostles and vicars. Because none 
felt more deeply the necessity of faithfulness in 
the Priest, who ought to be distinguished by the 
purity of his life, as well as by the sanctity of his 
office ; less by his immunities than by his virtues ; 

^ 1 Cor. xil 



REV. A. L. HITSELBERGER. 123 

a man dead to tlie world and his passions, nailed 
to the Cross with Jesus Christ, pledged in all ac- 
tions and through all trials, to glorify God in the 
salvation of souls. And he thus thought, and felt, 
and spoke, because '^ the law of his God was in his 
heart ; "^ because that law affected his conduct ; 
as the pomegranate, when its pulp is ripe and 
crimson, tinges the exterior of the fruit with a 
ruddy hue, in sign of its maturity. 

We read in the life of St. Francis Borgia, that 
when he addressed immense crowds in Spain and 
Portugal, those who were beyond the reach of his 
voice were as much affected as those who heard 
him distinctly ; by the evidences of sincerity and 
holiness which shone in his actions and counte- 
nance. And thus all who beheld Simon Brut6, 
not only at the altar and in the pulpit, but in the 
intercourse of life, could say of him what Enodius 
said of a Boman Consul, but with more perti- 
nency and truth, " ilium vidisse erudiri est," the 
spectacle of his life is a perfect lesson : — for when 
we image anew that attenuated figure, and thin, 

^ Ps. xxxvi. — . 



124 SERMON OF 

pale visage, marked less by the hand of time and 
sickness than by the wear of a twofold mortifica- 
tion ; that air of modesty and thoughtfulness, 
which subdued every feature and limb into edify- 
ing repose ; that mild, benignant look, which spoke 
more than words the feelings of a considerate, 
charitable, humble heart ; that posture of rapt at- 
tention and devotion in the exercise of prayer and 
the rites of religion ; those movements significant 
of a divine charity, which kindled his eye with 
ecstasy and winged his speech with flame, when Grod 
was his theme and man's salvation his object ; — 
we know that all this was the reflection of his soul 
and of the practical virtues of a man of God ; 
" an example of the faithful in word, in conversa- 
tion, in charity, in faith, in chastity, in doctrine, 
in integrity, in gravity, in good works/''^ What is 
the record of his life but holiness — what your tes- 
timony but admiration and praise ? Need I re- 
mind you of that profound humility which " sought 
not his own glory,"^ in the honors of the world and 
the good opinions of men ; which urged him to 

^Tit. ii. ''John viii. — . 



EEV. A. L. HITSELBERGER. 125 

bury liis merits in silence and solitude, under tlie 
shadows of tlie Cross ; to court rebuffs, and con- 
tempt, and lowest places ; to submit to tbe gov- 
ernment of bis juniors in years and inferiors in 
every thing ; to perform menial offices and harden 
his hands with toil ; to serve mass with the meek- 
ness and docility of a child ; to abase himself by 
apologies, and seek on bended knees the pardon of 
his petulant scholars ? Need I speak of his self- 
denial, the offspring of humihty and love, crushing 
mind, and heart, and senses, with the rigorism of 
the ancient Ascetics ; studying in all " only Jesus 
Christ, and him crucified ? "^ Need I recall his 
earnest and touching piety, which made the Church 
his dwelling, the altar his refuge, the offices of re- 
ligion his personal functions, good works his daily 
occupations, prayer his refection, love a necessity, 
union with God his very life ? Need I tell you of 
his charity, and zeal, and longanimity,' which knew 
no bounds to impede, no difficulties to deter, no 
unkindness to weary, no ingratitude to revolt ; 
which " counting his life not more precious than 

' 1 Cor. ii. — . 



126 SERMON OF 

himself, in order that he might spend himself for 
the souls of his brethren^ though loving them more 
he was loved less/"^ made these mountains and 
valleys fruitful in virtue ; when he sowed in hope^ 
watered with love, reaped in joy ; and rendered the 
name of Simon Brute immortal, as the guardian 
of orphans, the consoler of widows, the father of 
the poor, the healer of broken hearts, the reclaim- 
er of wandering sinners, the pastor, and friend, and 
benefactor, of all who sought counsel, comfort, 
strength, encouragement in life and support at 
death, of his large and bountiful heart ? What 
more am I to say of a holy life, which a thousand 
memorials around us recall ; the grottoes which he 
formed for prayer ; the winding paths which he 
scarped on the hill-side for meditative feet ; the 
rocks which he piled into oratories for the image 
of our sweet mother, and crowned with the cross 
of her son ; the grave-yard where he watched 
among the cherished dead : and oh ! better still, 
the spiritual riches of his children, who owe to him 
their knowledge and strength in this life, the ex- 

•^ Acts XX. 2 Cor. xii. 



KEY. A. L. HITSELBERGER. 127 

pectation of a very great reward in the life to 
come ; who here continue his ministry, " according 
to the pattern which he showed them on the 
mount," ^ or have gone forth to proclaim the effi- 
cacy of his precepts, and diffuse the sweet odor of 
his example ; to bear high and glorious, as a ban- 
ner of victory, the memory of his life, and sound 
his name on earth as a watchword which is tri- 
umphantly echoed in Heaven. Shall we number 
them, individualize them ? Cast your eyes over 
the broad ranges of our country, where, in the 
highways and by-ways, "rich men in virtue, 
studying beautifulness, have gained glory in their 
generation ; "^ where schools, colleges, convents, 
churches, asylums, hospitals, institutes, confrater- 
nities, and the piety of congregations, are " signs 
of apostleship wrought in wonders and mighty 
deeds : "^ nay, " since the glory of a man is from 
the honor of his father,"^ look at this sanctuary, 
where you recognize " evangelists, and pastors, and 
doctors, for the perfecting of the saints, for the 
work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body 

' Exod. XXV. — . » Eccl. xliv. — . ^ 2 Cor. *£ii. — . * Eccl. iii. — 



128 SERMON OF 

of Christ : "^ and, above all, illustrious prelates, 
^^ tlie appointed overseers in the house of the Lord ; 
ruling over the present people, and by the strength 
of wisdom instructing them in most holy 
words ; "^ and tell me if they are not Ms pupils, 
actuated by his spirit and trained by his dis- 
cipline, to be the ornaments of society, the friends 
and benefactors of mankind, the honor and stay 
of the American Church ? Tell me if they are 
not his design, his work, the argument of his 
power, the heritage of his holiness, the living mon- 
ument of his zeal, which announces to the world 
that " God gave him glory in his posterity ? "^ 
He has gone from amongst us : but though " dead, 
he still speaketh ; "^ speaketh the wisdom which 
we revere,' the love which we gratefully, tearfully, 
acknowledge ; speaketh as he ever spoke, of God, 
whom he devoutly worshipped ; of the saints, 
whose intercession and society he craved for him 
and us ; of Heaven, where knowledge is made 
perfect, charity never fails, and the good and the 
faithful are inebriated with delights. He sleeps, 

' Eph. iv. — . ^2 Eur. xxiii. Eccl. xliv. — . ^ Eccl. xliv. — . 

* Heb. xi. 



BEV. A. L. HITSELBERGER. 129 

far away from his mountain home, on the banks 
of the Wabash, as his venerable brother and com- 
peer on the banks of the rolling Hudson ; where 
" God bestowed on them a great priesthood, exalt- 
ed them in the sight of kings, sanctified them in 
their faith and meekness."^ "Full of the glory of 
the Lord is their work : their name continues for- 
ever."^ 

But whilst " their bodies, buried in peace,"^ 
moulder in distant tombs, their spirits hover over 
their ancient dwelling, and live in the hearts of all 
" true Moimtaineers." We have come from the 
North and the South, the East and the West, to 
tread once more this holy ground ; to renew the 
inspirations of early years ; to utter laments and 
praises, to mingle tears and supplications, in tes- 
timony of reverence, love, and gratitude, as be- 
comes " children of the saints."^ 

The Church, mindful of man's weakness and 
God's inscrutable justice, hopeful of mercy, but 
uncertain of judgments and probations beyond the 
grave, even for the good, whose praise she declares, 

* Eccl. xlr. 2 i^^^i^ ^|.j __ 3 E^,(jj^ ^Yiy. * Tob. ii. — . 

6 



130 SERMON OF 

offers up the divine sacrifice as a memorial of char- 
ity^ and in expiation of faults of '^ the souls of the 
just who are in the hands of God/'^ We devout- 
ly join our voices and prayers to hers, though we 
would fain exercise those voices with songs of ju- 
bilee, and convert those prayers into invocations ; 
in the belief that the founders of Mount St. 
Mary's, ^^ having fought the good fight, finished 
their course, and kept the faith, have received the 
crown of justice as their eternal reward."^ 

Forgive me, my brethren, if I have ill-ex- 
pressed the sentiments which stir your breasts and 
mine. Attempting no biographies, and wandering 
little beyond the College bounds of our youth, I 
have spoken measurably less of events than prin- 
ciples, less of salient deeds than of the character 
which they impressed. But words are histories to 
you who " know the doctrine, manner of life, pur- 
pose, faith, long-suffering, love, patience, afflic- 
tions,"^ of John Dubois and Simon Brute. If we 
strike on an instrument but thQ first notes of an 
old, familiar song, memory catches the unfinished 

' Wis. iii. — . 2 Tim. iv — 2 Tim. iii. 



REV. A. L. HITSELBERGEK. 131 

melody, and perfects it on the chords of the heart : 
if we trace only the outlines of a beloved face, 
which lives but in the past, the canvas glows with 
the entire features which affection reflects from the 
image on the soul. Complete the melody and the 
picture for the benefit of the^ living and in honor 
of the dead. 

We have met after a long period of separation, 
and now we part — part to be re-united no more in 
our mountain home, nor in the outer world, 
whither we are hastening by divergent paths. A 
few years may be added to our lives, and then we 
quit the scenes of our present toils and sorrows to 
enter the realms which lie beyond the grave. This 
is the truth which we should bear away in our 
hearts — this the term which we should keep stead- 
ily in view. Brethren ! we are one on earth ; 
shall we not be one in Heaven ? happy destiny 
which awaits us in union with those venerable and 
holy men, — the pupils with their teachers, the 
children with their fathers, on the bosom of God, — 
if true to the memories of our youth and perse- 
verant in loyalty to the end, we hold to the pre- 



132 SERMON OF EEV. A. L. HITSELBERGER. 

cept and the counsel : " Remember your prelates 
who have spoken to you the word of God ; con- 
sidering well the end of their conversation, imi- 
tate their faith." *" 



THE CATHOLIC MIRROR'S ACCOUNT OF THE 



iftg-|nr |«HIn* 



THE CATHOLIC MmROR'S ACCOUNT 



OP THE FIFTY-TEAR JUBILEE, CELEBRATED ON THE SIXTH 
AND SEVENTH DAYS OF OCTOBER, 1858, IN COMMEMORA- 
TION OF THE FOUNDING OF MOUNT ST. MARY'S COLLEGE. 



THE FIFTY-YEAR JUBILEE. 

The celebi-ation of the Semi-Centennial Anni- 
versary of the Founding of Mount St. Mary's Col- 
lege, took place on Wednesday last, October 6th, 
within the College precincts. Half a century has 
rolled away since the humble beginning of that 
now famous Institution. Only a few of the abo- 
riginal students survive, to compare its present 
condition with that in which they first found it. 
Not only is the College dissimilar to what it was 
then, but the whole vicinity has undergone a grad- 
ual change. 



136 THE JUBILEE. 



EMMITTSBUKG. 



From tliis remark we might venture to except 
the neighboring pleasant village of Emmittsburg. 
It seems to stand the test of time, unmoved. It 
has still the same length and breadth it enjoyed 
when our infant eyes first beheld it. The same 
stationary number of eight hundred and some odd 
inhabitants in which it rejoiced in our childhood 
days, still graces, again and again, the decennial 
census — as it has for probably the full term of half 
a century. It is not disturbed by the sharp whis- 
tle of the locomotive, nor does even the crack of 
the Pitt wagoner^'s whip any longer resound with- 
in it. Eailroads, and steam, and turnpikes, have 
invited trade and travel along more enterprising 
routes. However, what there is of it, has im- 
proved vastly to the eye. Excepting some old and 
forbidding fabrics which sadden our entrance into 
the town, the houses generally wear a neat appear- 
ance. A few new ones have been built, and many 
old ones have been renovated and beautified. Mr. 
Wile has just completed a large and commodious 



THE JUBILEE. 137 

hotel, capable of affording comfortable accommo- 
dations to a great number of visitors. Tbe most 
gratifying advance we saw in the line of improve- 
ments, was the capacions and beautiful Church, 
which surmounts the rising ground in the north- 
eastern part of the corporation limits. It is a no- 
ble evidence of the zeal of the old school of Cath- 
olics, who form the chief part of the congregation, 
and who are uncontaminated by the fashions and 
folhes which in many places are the canker worm 
of genuine Catholic piety. Though large, it is 
well filled, evincing the continual increase of the 
Faithful in and around the village. In our day a 
much smaller edifice was large enough for all the 
congregation. A very fine pastor's residence, and 
a Hall for Catholic purposes, must also be ranked 
among the modern improvements. Most of the 
worthies of the olden time are no more ; we saw 
their names engraved on the marble tomb-stones 
in the Church-yard ! At least one link still binds 
the present to the past ; that is Joachim Elder, 
Esq., who almost, for time out of mind, in spite 

of political revolutions, and under various adminis- 
6* 



138 THE JUBILEE. 

trations^ has honestly, faithfully, and efficiently, 
filled the office of postmaster. 

We will mention, as one sign of returning vi- 
tality in the citizens of this place, that practical 
means have been adopted, and an actual com- 
mencement made, to continue the Frederick turn- 
pike from Mechanicstown to Emmittsburg. It 
will pass within a few yards of the College gate 
and close to St. Joseph's Academy, affording a 
comparatively easy and pleasant access, by way 
of Frederick City, to those Institutions. 

ST. Joseph's valley. 

St. Joseph's, the Mother-House of the Sisters 
of Charity in the United States, situated one mile 
and a half from the College, had no existence 
when Mount St. Mary's was founded. It now 
forms a magnificent cluster of buildings, located 
in a healthy, beautiful place, and surrounded by 
enchanting grounds. These, with its several hun- 
dred Sisters, and the nearly two hundred girls in 
the Academy, speak in no feeble voice the change 



THE JUBILEE. 139 

that has heen wrought here since the origin of the 
Old Mountain. 

THE NEIGHBORHOOD, 

The environs of the College also attest the im- 
provement which half a century has effected. It 
is true, Carriers Knob lifts its majestic head no 
loftier, nor does it view with more calm dignity the 
extensive and fertile plains beneath it, than it did 
in days of yore. Tom's Creek winds its clear, 
mountain water between its grassy banks, as it did 
when the first College boys followed its course to 
catch frogs, suckers, and sun-fish. The Indian 
graves, the Grotto, the Devil's Den, and the Her- 
mitage, now classic, maintain their immovability. 
Even the autumnal leaf on Mary's Mount displays 
all its gorgeous colors of brown, and red, and yel- 
low, with an intermingling of green, as it did when 
long years ago we gazed upon it with a melancholy 
pleasure, or strayed away amid the oaks and chest- 
nuts and maples, whilst the fallen leaf, on the 
wings of the plaintive wind, went rustling by. 
These are unchanged ; but look around and see 



140 THE JUBILEE. 

where once the lowly log farm-house stood is now an 
elegant mansion, bespeaking the comfort and com- 
petence of its inmates. Lime and deep ploughing 
have made the soil generous in its yield. Orchards 
have grown up, and even vineyards are gladdening 
the heart of the thrifty cultivator. 

ORIGIN OF THE INSTITUTION. 

Fifty years ago the College itself opened in a 
small farm-house with seven scholars, gathered to- 
gether by the then Kev. John Dubois, the venera- 
ted founder of the Institution, who was a mission- 
ary priest, ministering to the spiritual wants of 
the Faithful there in what was then called the 
Catholic Settlement, as well as to those in sur- 
rounding missions. Now a range of spacious ar- 
chitectural stone buildings forms the material part 
of Mount St. Mary's College. Nearly two hun- 
dred students are at present trained in piety and 
in learning within its walls. Thousands have gone 
forth from it in bygone years, and still bear an af- 
fectionate remembrance of their Alma Mater, as 
is demonstrated in their every-day avowals, as well 



THE JUBILEE. 141 

as by the number who have come to unite in the 
College Jubilee. 

THE CELEBRATION. 

According to the published programme, the 
festivities were to be continued two days, so as to 
give time to encompass the several points intended 
to be commemorated. This will make October the 
6th and 7th, 1858, memorable days in the annals 
of Mount St. Mary's. None who enjoyed the 
privilege of being present will ever forget them, 
or fail to hand down to their descendants the 
events connected with them. 

ARRIVAL OF VISITORS. 

On Monday and Tuesday preceding the cele- 
bration, as well as on the morning of the day it- 
self, stage load after stage load of visitors arrived 
within the College bounds, and were greeted with 
a hearty Mountain welcome by the inmates of the 
College and the earlier comers among the visitors. 
PubHc and private conveyances performed the 
transportation service in good earnest, as well as 



142 THE JUBILEE. 

with speed and safety. As soon as the arrival of 
Bishops, particularly that of Archbishop Hughes, 
was announced, the College bells were rung long 
and merrily. The current of alumni and friends 
continued thus to flow in until nearlv two hun- 
dred had received the warm-hearted welcome of 
the conductors of the Institution. Many also took 
lodgings in Emmittsburg, and in the neighborhood 
of the College. It did an old Mountaineer's heart 
good to see one after another of his former fellow- 
students and companions arrive on the spot which 
witnessed their competition in the race of litera- 
ture and science. The earnest and prolonged 
grasp of their friendly hands, bespoke the feelings 
of their hearts. Some had not met before since 
they parted within the halls of their Alma Mater, 
which, in not a few cases, had been over a quarter 
of a century ago. 

HOSPITALITY OF THE COLLEGE. 

The proverbial hospitahty of the Old Mountain 
was severely tested and nobly maintained, so as to 
win the admiration of all. For several days the 



THE JUBILEE, 143 

walls of the Institution were filled with friends^ 
who were amply provided with comfortable lodg- 
ings and sumptuous fare. Many of the students 
and professors took deHght in putting themselves 
to temporary inconvenience^ in order to make the 
visit and stay of strangers as pleasant as possible. 
Some of the students we know gave up their sleep- 
ing apartments to the visitors, and took less com- 
modious ones for themselves. Honor to such stu- 
dents ; they will yet be a credit to their Alma 
Mater, and will perpetuate her fame for the happy 
influences she exercises on the head and the heart 
of her sons. 

PEESONS PEESENT. 

Apart from the residents of the place, the num- 
ber of persons who participated in the celebration 
must have been at least three hundred. They 
were gathered together from near and distant 
parts of the United States ; from the Gulf of 
Mexico in the South to the confines of Canada in 
the North. They consisted of every class of per- 
sons, clerical and lay, professional and otherwise, 



144 THE JUBILEE. 

Alumni of the College, and others friendly to the 
Institution. It is wholly out of our power to give 
a complete list of aU who were present, so that, 
against our will, we are compelled to confine our- 
selves to the names of those who came within the 
range of our observation. We will now attempt 
at least that much. 

BISHOPS. 

Most Rev. John Hughes, Archb'p of New York. 

Rt. Rev. George A. Carroll, Bp. of Covington, Ky. 

Rt. Rev. Wm. H. Elder, Bp. of Natchez. 

Rt. Rev. John Longhlin, Bp. of Brooklyn, 

Rt. Rev. John McCloskey, Bp. of Albany. 

Rt. Rev. Francis P. McFarland, Bp. of Hartford. 

Rt. Rev. James F. Wood, Coadj. Bp. of Philadelphia. 

PRIESTS. 

Rev. Andrew Bohan, Brooklyn. 

Rev. Robert Byrne, New York. 

Rev. F. Burlando, Emmittsburg. 

Rev. John J. Conroy, Albany. 

Rev. Wm. Cook, Philadelphia. 

Rev. lilichael Curran, New York. 

Rev. Thomas Doran, Albany. 

Rev. Alexius J. Elder, Baltimore. 

Rev. John Hackett, Tarrytown, N. Y. 

Rev. Thomas Heyden, Bedford, Pa. 

Rev. John F. Hickey, Baltimore. 

Rev. Alex. L. Hitselberger, Frederick, Md. 

Rev. Michael Hackett, Salina, N, Y. 

Rev. John Kelley, Jersey City, N. J. 

Rev. Bernard Keenan, Lancaster, Pa. 

Rev. James Keeveny, Keesville, N. Y. 

Rev. Edward D. Lyman, Baltimore. 

Rev. Michael McAleer, New York. 



THE JUBILEE. 145 



Rev. George McCloskey, New York. 

Rev. James McGarahan, Mobile, Ala. 

Rev. Edward McKee, Philadelphia. 

Rev. John McGovern, Philadelphia. 

Rev. Thos. McLaughlin, New Rochelle, N. Y. 

Rev. Patrick Moran, Newark, N. J. 

Rev. Michael F. Martin, Philadelphia. ♦ 

Rev. Daniel Mngan, Ellenville, N. Y. 

Rev. Daniel Morgan, Ulster Co., N. Y. 

Rev. L. Obermyer, Baltimore. 

Rev. Edward J. O'Brien, New Haven, Conn. 

Rev. Thomas O'Neil, Taneytown, Md. 

Rev. Charles C. Pise, D. D., Brooklyn. 

Rev. Patrick Raferty, Philadelphia. 

Rev. James Rolando, Emmittsburg, Md. 

Rev. John Shanahan, New York. 

Rev. Edward J. Soiirin, Baltimore. 



LATMESr. 

Hon. Judge Champeny, Lancaster, Pa. ; Hon. Jacob Kunkle, M. 
C, Frederick, Md. ; Hon. Franklin Clack, Ex U. S. Dist. Att., New 
Orleans ; Hon. Patrick Kelly, Mayor of Emmittsburg ; Capt. "Wil- 
liam Seton, U. S. N., Clairvaux, Md., one of the survivors of the 
first seven students; Prof. William E. A, Aikin, Baltimore; Prof. 
Theodore Blume, Vice President of Calvert College, Carroll Co., 
Md. ; Prof. Joseph Gegan, Baltimore ; Capt. Eugene Cummisky, 
Baltimore ; Patrick Donahoe, Editor of the Pilot, Boston ; Col. 
Outerbridge Horsey, Needwood, Md. ; Dr. Dominick A. O'Donnel, 
Baltimore ; J. W. Baughman, Editor of the Citizen, Frederick, Md. ; 
Dr. Wm. Patterson, Emmittsburg ; George H. Miles, author of In- 
Tcermann and various other works ; James McSherry, author of the 
History of Maryland and other productions ; Robert Mickle, Cashier 
of Union Bank, Baltimore ; John Lilly, Conawago, Pa., one of the 
three survivors of the seven boys who first entered Mount St. Mary's 
fifty years ago ; Dr. James Eichelberger, Emmittsburg ; also, John 
Honeywell, Patrick McLaughlin, Basil F. Elder, Basil T. Elder, 
Wm. Geo. Read, Patrick Henry Benuet, James L. Ridgely, Fran- 
cis Elder, Laurence Puzenet, T. Parkin Scott, Alexius Baugher, Chas. 
Monmonier, Michael Roach, Francis Chatard, Thomas F. Roach, 
Isaac Hartman, and John Boyle, Esquires, of Baltimore ; Hugh 
McAleer and Charles W. Hoffman, Esquires, of Frederick, Md. ; 
John D. Ewiug, Edward Tiers, John Elder, Joshua Shorb, Joseph 



146 THE JUBILEE. 

McDevit, and Joshua Hotter, Esquires, Emmlttsburg ; William Se- 
toti, Jr., Dixon, Illinois ; Joseph Fry, Esq., Philadelphia ; John F. 
Ennis, Esq., Washington City ; Douglas Clopper, Esq., Montgom- 
ery Co., Md. ; C. G. de Garmendia and Francis Torres, Esquires, 
Cuba ; Thomas Elder, A. Dufilho, and Lewis Carr, Esquires, New 
Orleans ; Mr. Lyons, Reporter of the Herald, N. Y. ; and many- 
others. 

The spiritual exercises of the Jubilee granted 
by the Holy Father being in progress in many of 
the dioceses^ prevented a large number of the Kev- 
erend Clergy, who were anxious to be present, from 
leaving their parishes. The absence of Archbishop 
Purcell, Bishop Whelan, and Bishop Young, all 
alumni of the Mountain, was especially regretted 
by their numerous friends. Of the Bishops pres- 
ent, all, except Bishop Wood, were educated at 
Mount St. Mary^s. 

LITERARY PART OF THE JUBILEE. 

At 10 o'clock, A. M., on Wednesday, the 6th, 
the literary part of the exercises commenced in the 
large Hall. It was crowded with, an intelligent 
audience, numbering about ^lyq, hundred, counting 
the College boys at nearly one hundred and sev- 
enty. The life-like portrait of Bishop Dubois, 
and the bust of Bishop Brute, founders of the In- 



THE JUBILEE. 147 

stitution^ decorated tlie rear part of the stage. 
The room was otherwise well arranged for the oc- 
casion. The Priests and the laity occupied the 
main body of the Hall in front of the platform. 
The orchestra was between them and the rostrum. 
The stage was occupied by the Bishops, the Offi- 
cers of the College, the Orator and Poets for the 
occasion ; also by Capt. William Seton and John 
Lilly, Esq., as survivors of the first class of seven 
with which the Institution commenced. The 
President of Mount St. Mary's, Eev. John McCaf- 
frey, D. D., presided, assisted by the Kev. John 
McCloskey, Yice President. Prof. Dielman con- 
ducted the musical department with great ability, 
and to the entire satisfaction of the company. 
The five Pyrenees Mountaineer Singers were with- 
in the orchestra, and sang some of their songs at 
intervals, much to the pleasure of the assembly. 

The exercises were opened by the President, 
Dr. McCaffrey. 

After the prolonged applause that followed his 
concluding words had subsided, the President in- 
troduced the Orator of the day, James Mc Sherry, 



148 THE JUBILEE. 

of the Frederick City Bar. His address was mucli 
and deservedly clieered. We hope at an early day 
to lay before the readers of the Mirror this ele- 
gant address^ as well as the poems delivered by 
George H. Miles^ Esq., of the Baltimore Bar, and 
the Kev. Charles C. Pise, D. D., of Brooklyn, both 
of which are of a high order of poetry, and gave 
unbounded satisfaction. 

The band played "Auld Lang Syne," after 
which Dr. McCaffrey said, — 

My Feiends, I thank the audience for their 
participation in our exercises here to-day, but I 
have now a regret to express. I have asked Arch- 
bishop Hughes to say a few words on this occasion. 
[Here a tremendous burst of cheering drowned the 
speaker's voice, and he soon retired. Archbishop 
Hughes then advanced, and the cheering was con- 
tinued with renewed vigor.] When silence was at 
length restored, the Archbishop said : My friend 
concluded his brief observations by expressing a 
regret, but he did not quite express it ; he has left 
that to me, and I regret that in consequence of a 
sore throat I am prevented from making any ex- 



THE JUBILEE. 149 

tended remarks. I return my thanks for the good 
will you have evinced towards me, and I will take 
this occasion to say that the associations of this 
day are of the pleasantest and at the same time 
of the most melancholy character, missing, as we 
do, many who, a quarter of a century ago, met in 
this Hall, devoted to science and relio;ion. In fu- 
ture let us hope that others, even more distin- 
guished, wiU go forth from this College, than those 
of previous years, to adorn religion and jpromote 
science. (Applause.) 

The Mountaineers then sang La Betraite suivie 
par la Mar eke Nocturne, which was loudly ap- 
plauded, and this concluded the exercises. 

THE BANQUET. 

At four o'clock the company sat down to a sub- 
stantial banquet in the refectory of the College, a 
fine room, which accommodates three hundred. 
About two hundred guests partook of the hospi- 
tality of the College on this occasion. The Presi- 
dent, Dr. McCaffrey, occupied the chair. The 
Bishops sat on his right and left. After the din- 



150 THE JUBILEE. 

ner, tlie President proposed^ as tlie first toast^ The 
health and long life of Fope Fius IX, preceding 
it with many happy remarks. Archbishop Hughes 
was loudly called upon to respond, which he did 
at considerable length, to the evident delight of 
the guests, manifested by repeated cheers. The 
second toast was. The President of the United 
States, to which Hon. Jacob Kunkle, Member of 
Congress from that district, responded in an excel- 
lent speech, eulogizing the President and the Dem- 
ocratic party. The Memory of Dubois and Brute 
was then drunk standing and in silence. Hon. 
Franklin Clack, Ex U. S. District Attorney in 
New Orleans, and several other gentlemen, spoke 
with much applause when called out. William 
George Kead, Esq., drew attention, and won gold- 
en opinions, by concluding his address with a Semi- 
centennial Ode to his Alma Mater, which he sang 
with great feeling and effect. At 7 o'clock the 
company rose from the table and withdrew in the 
utmost good humor, every thing having passed off 
in the happiest manner. We ought to add that 
the Mountaineer Singers, in the midst of the din- 



THE JUBILEE. 151 

ner festivities, took a stand in the centre of tlie 
room, and sang some songs in their vernacular lan- 
guage, to the gratification of all who heard them. 

THE CONCERT 

In the evening, a little after eight o'clock, the 
inmates of the College, the visitors, and a few of 
the neighbors, assembled in the College Hall to 
listen to a Yocal Concert by the Pyrenees Moun- 
taineer Singers. They made their appearance in 
a peculiar costume, consisting of white pants, 
blue blouse frock coats faced with white collars, 
and reaching nearly down to the knees. Their 
heads were covered with white woollen caps, broad 
at the top, and inclining to one side, with a long 
tassel hanging down. As soon as they reached the 
Hall, they marched in single file up to the front of 
the Bishops, who now occupied seats on the Hall 
floor, before the orchestra. Having arranged them- 
selves in a line facing the Bishops, they all knelt 
down together and asked a blessing. Archbishop 
Hughes stood up and blessed them, upon which 
they rose and one by one took him by the hand 



152 THE JUBILEE. 

and kissed his ring, genuflecting at the same time. 
This whole proceeding was so edifying and rever- 
ent that it produced the happiest effect on the 
spectators, who applauded them long and loud. 

The singers took their stand on the platform in 
a semi-circle facing the audience, and sang seve- 
ral French songs in their peculiar style. They also 
sang the Credo throughout. One unusual circum- 
stance was that they sang entirely from memory, 
having no books, prints, or guides of any kind near 
them. 

In the interval between some of their pieces, 
the Bev. Dr. Pise took his stand on the platform 
and read a beautiful translation into English verse 
of his Latin poem, delivered in the morning. 

THE LUMINOUS CKOSS. 

The cupola of the College has within its open 
parts a large cross. This is hollow and filled with 
gas. Along its length and breadth are thickly-set 
jets, from which the gas can emanate. During 
this College festivity it was lit up every night, and 
presented a beautiful spectacle. It not only 



THE JUBILEE. 153 

throws a flood of light on the premises of the In- 
stitution, but it is seen for many miles around. 
We all admired its brilliancy, as well as the good 
taste which caused it to be erected there. 

THE EEQUIEM MASS. 

The morning of the 7th broke upon us in the 
midst of a severe storm of wind and rain. A 
heavy mist brooded over the surface of the ground, 
hiding from view every distant object. The au- 
tumnal leaf was whirled from its bough, and driven 
amid the forest trees. The poet's idea and de- 
scription was vividly brought to mind : 

" My life is like the autumn leaf, 
That trembles in the moon's pale ray." 

Fortunately, about nine o'clock the rain ceased, 
a bright and beautiful day followed, and we were 
enabled to make the contemplated procession to 
the Church. At 10 o'clock the seven Prelates, in 
rochet and manteUa, and one hundred Priests and 
ecclesiastical students dressed in surplice, formed 
a line of procession and marched along the wind- 
ing path up the mountsy^n side, to the venerated 
1 



154 THE JUBILEE. 

old mountain Churcli, to participate in the solemn 
service of the Kequiem Mass, about to be offered 
for the repose of the souls of Bishops Dubois and 
Brute, the revered founders of the place. 

The Church was appropriately fitted up for the 
occasion, and there were in attendance many of the 
neighboring Catholics, as well as the visitors and 
students of the College. The capacity of the 
sanctuary was increased by opening the sacristy 
doors, and placing suitable seats just in front of 
the railing, which afforded ample room for the 
Priests and Seminarians who had no special duty 
to fulfil around the altar. Archbishop Hughes, 
who was to have celebrated the Mass, being too 
unwell, the Bishop of Albany supplied his place, 
and discharged that function. The venerable 
Father Hickey, one of the old stock of Mountain- 
eers, acted as assistant Priest, and the Kev. Alex- 
ius J. Elder, another of the same kind, was Dea- 
con, and the Kev. F. Burlando Sub-Deacon. The 
Kev. Messrs. Keenan, Moran, Sourin, and Ober- 
meyer, robed in sacerdotal vestments, were assist- 
ing Priests, and occupied a conspicuous place in 



THE JUBILEE. 155 

the sanctuary. The six Bishops, including the 
Archbishop, assisted on the gospel side in their 
episcopal dress and berretta. There was no instru- 
mental music on the occasion. The students of 
the College and the Seminaries had been taught 
and trained to sing the Mass ; these, together with 
the attending clergymen, amateur singers among 
the visitors, and the regular choir of the Church, 
sang the Eequiem Mass throughout, including the 
whole of the Dies tree. The union of these more 
than a hundred voices in chanting the solemn and 
impressive notes of a Mass for the dead, produced 
a powerful effect upon the feelings, softened every 
heart, and left few eyes tearless. 

The &ve Pyrenees Singers were present, but 
took no part with the others. At two different 
times, however, during the service, they filled in- 
tervals by singing some hymns in their own style. 

The sermon was preached by the R^v. Alexan- 
der L. Hitselberger, S. J., of Frederick, Md., an 
old alumnus of the College and Seminary. His 
discourse was elegant in composition, and appro- 
priate to the interesting occasion^ deeply affecting 



156 THE JUBILEE. 

the preacher, awakening in the minds of old Moun- 
taineers many sacred and happy recollections, and 
presenting to the rising ones, for their guidance, 
good examples and principles, as developed in the 
lives of the great and good Dubois and Brute. 

Upon the conclusion of the Kequiem service, 
the long-drawn procession returned in silence to 
its starting place, by the same route it went. 
With this terminated that impressive service. 

THE PARTING DINNER. 

The dinner on Thursday, October 7th, was, 
according to the programme, the last of the Jubi- 
lee festivities. At three o'clock we entered the re- 
fectory, to enjoy a sumptuous repast, arranged in 
the most tasteful manner. What seemed to us 
the most gratifying was the fact that all were there 
together. Bishops, Priests, professors, teachers, 
students, alumni, and friends of the Mountain, 
seated side by side at this memorable banquet, was 
a grand spectacle, showing it to be a time of gen-, 
eral rejoicing and for the enjoyment of all. As 
soon as a few verses had been read from the New 



THE JUBILEE. 157 

Testament, according to invariable custom, we 
were greeted with one of tlie merriest clapping of 
hands College boys ever gUve. At the close of the 
meal proper, the proceedings were of the most af- 
fecting character. Prof Dielman entered the room 
with his violin in hand, and advanced to the front 
of the table occupied by the Bishops. As soon as 
the vociferous talking which re-echoed through the 
Hall had subsided, he struck up '^ Auld Lang 
Syne" and played it with much effect. Professor 
Joseph Gegan then yielded to the loud calls made 
upon him to sing the Exile of Erin. It was heard 
with the deepest emotion, and elicited rounds of 
applause. With one voice, then, the Kev. Edward 
D. Lyman was called on for a song. Unable to 
resist the continued cry, he gratified all by singing 
the Harp of Tar a. This was followed by Home, 
Sweet Home, sung in chorus by a large number of 
voices. At this advanced stage of the proceed- 
ings, the hearts of the assembled throng being 
mellowed by the inspirations of scenes around 
them, as well as by memories of the past, a gen- 
eral call from all parts of the room was made to 



158 THE JUBILEE. 

sing, in united chorus, before we should sepa- 
rate, the Auld Lang Syne. It was done. Its 
effect was overpowering. It was a moving 
thing, and one to be remembered for a life- 
time, to hear the three hundred voices of those 
present singing, with all the strength of their 
lungs, and from the depth of their hearts, the 
touching words of Auld Lang Syne. It struck 
responsive chords in every breast, awakened the 
memory of bygone days, opened the well-springs 
of the affections, and made tears flow down many 
an aged and many a youthful cheek — ^from the 
venerable Archbishop to the youngest College 
stripling. The scene can never be forgotten by 
those present, and the warm hearts of all true 
Mountaineers were more than ever melted into one, 

ILLUMINATION OF THE GKOTTO. 

The interesting spot called the Grotto is situ- 
ated less than half a mile from the College on the 
mountain side, and in a deep ravine. It is sur- 
rounded by lofty forest trees and a thick under- 
growth of wild bushes. By it flows a small stream 
of crystal water, gathered from the numerous little 



. THE JUBILEE. 159 

springs that gush from the rocky glens. The 
Grotto is constructed mainly of lattice-work, and 
has a suhstantial roof over it. The native grape 
vine, which in early times formed the covering, is 
no longer relied upon for that service, but it still 
adds to the rustic beauty of the place. Around 
it are small walks and paling fences, which give an 
air of neatness to the locality. Within is a shrine 
dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary, containing 
a large image of her, appropriately painted and 
ornamented. To this quiet retreat the College 
students and their teachers, hke the sainted Brute 
of old, sometimes retire, during recreation, to pray, 
and pay a votive homage to Mary, their sweet 
Mother. They take pleasure in honoring her, and 
on special occasions increase their evidences of de- 
votion. Such a one was presented by this College 
Jubilee, and they took care at night to illuminate 
the whole place with chandeliers and burning can- 
dles. Around the image of the Blessed Virgin in 
particular was the illumination brilliant. We 
went to enjoy this sight, and were exceedingly ed- 
ified. As we approached, the burning lights seen 



160 THE JUBILEE. 

througli the tree brandies made a deep impression. 
Many of the youthful clients of Mary were there, 
singing her hymns and Jitany with great fervor. 
There, where no human voice could reach them, 
nor human eye see them, in the midst of the dark- 
ness of night, their sweet melody rose on the even- 
ing air. The continued song of the katydids, and 
the music of the murmuring brook, were their sole 
accompaniments, save when the hill sides gave 
back a gentle echo. From our heart we blessed 
the spirit that animates those who throw an inter- 
est around this charming place. 

DEPARTURE OF THE ALUMNI. 

Soon after the last notes -of Auld Lang Syne 
had died away at the parting dinner, the visitors 
prepared for their return home. Many stage- 
coaches and other vehicles were in waiting for 
them. 

But the painful ordeal of separation was feared. 
The few happy days now passed with old class- 
mates, served to recall former times^ and, in some 
sense, to renew our youth. We parted, in most 



THE JUBILEE. 161 

cases, to meet no more. It was saddening, then, 
as each, one stepped into the coach, to press the 
hand of an old friend and to bid him farewell. 
Every one felt within himself more than he could 
titter. 

MEMENTO MOVEMENT. 

It was suggested by some of the Alumni, be- 
fore separating, that the memory of this Jubilee 
should be perpetuated in a substantial form. 
This idea was gladly received, and many thought 
it would be proper, not only to publish a history 
of this event, but to include a succinct history of 
the first half century of our Alma Mater. We 
hope that this movement may take a living form. 
We trust, however, that, like the names of the il- 
lustrious few, the name of Mount St. Mary's " is 
not horn to die." 



DISCOUESE ON THE 

^ig|t "gtkxmli ^imm (§Md ^xuU, g. g. 

BY THE KEV. JOHN McCAEFREY, D. D. 



TO THE STUDENTS OF MOUNT ST. MARY'S SEMINARY 
AND COLLEGE. 

My Dear Friends : — 

At your request I have consented to tlie pu"blication of the 
following discourse : to you I dedicate it. You have thought it 
meet that some tribute of respect to the memory of Bishop Brute 
should proceed from an institution which he so long supported and 
adorned by his learning, talents, and virtues. Your solicitude in 
this regard indicates the best feelings, and is honorable to your 
character. 

I inscribe this discourse to you with the cheering hope that you 
wiU always imitate the virtues which you so much admired. 

With hearty good wishes for your success in your laudable pur- 
suits, and for your happiness in time and eternity, I am 

Your affectionate friend, 

JOHN McCaffrey. 

Mount St. Mary's College, October 21st, 1839. 



DISCOUESE 

ON THE ET. EEVEEEND SIMON GABEIEL BEUTjS, D. D., BISHOP 
OF VINCENNES, PEONOUNCED IN MOUNT ST. MAEY'S 
CHUECH, AUGUST 19TH, 1839, ON THE OCCASION OF A SOL- 
EMN SEEVICE FOE THE EEPOSE OF HIS SOUL, BY THE EEY. 
JOHN McCAFFEEY, D. D., PEESIDENT OF MOUNT ST. MAEYVS 
COLLEGE. 

Wisdom hath delivered from sorrow them that attend upon her. 
She conducted the just through the right ways, and showed him 
the kingdom of God, and gave him the knowledge of holy things ; 
made him honorable in labors and accomplished his labors. — ^Wis- 
dom X., 9, 10. 

If there is sometliing melaiiclioly, there is also 
sometliing beautiful in the spectacle before me. 
You have come together in obedience to the best 
feelings of the heart, as well as to the voice of re- 
ligion. It is in the true spirit of Christian charity 
that you offer up united prayers to God^ in behalf 
of one whose memory this congregation and this 
neighborhood must ever cherish and hold in vener- 
ation. For if the best endowments of mind and 
heart may claim our admiration ; if illustrious ex- 
amples of virtue and piety merit our tributes of 



166 DISCOURSE ON 

respect ; if the most active zeal and benevolence 
exerted in our favor demand the expression of our 
gratitude ; then do we owe the fullest homage of 
our admiration/ reverence, and gratitude, to the 
memory of Bishop Brute. But what to him now 
are the feeble tributes which we may offer to his 
memory ? Will the voice of panegyric reach his 
distant grave, and pierce the hollow chambers of 
the ear that is closed to every sound, until the 
Archangel's trumpet shall awaken all the dead ? 
Will any honors we can pay him light up a single 
smile on the eye which is darkened by the cold 
mists of death ? Ah ! if Keligion came not to 
our aid — if, with her lamp of truth she did not 
show us that charity stops not at the grave, and 
that the souls even of the friends of God may 
need and can be benefited by our prayers — grati- 
tude herself would be powerless. Vain would be 
the tender, yet generous feelings, that swell the 
bursting heart, when the hand of death robs us of 
a friend, a benefactor, or some cherished object of 
the purest affections. Nothing would be left us 
but useless regrets, unavailing sighs, or impious 



BISHOP BRUTE. 167 

murmurs against the unrelenting decrees of a mys- 
terious Providence. But religion seeks not to stifle 
these irrepressible emotions. She employs and 
directs them. She enlists the sympathies of the 
living in behalf of the dead. She consecrates 
their mourning by purifying their sorrow of its 
selfishness. She teaches grief to find a comforter 
in charity. She turns the groans of lamentation 
into the whispered prayers of faith and piety. 

Among my hearers there are those who owe to 
the zeal of Mr. Brute their conversion to the Holy 
Catholic Church ; there are many who learned from 
him to walk in the paths of virtue and Christian 
perfection ; there are widows and orphans who, in 
their distress, found a sure relief in his benevo- 
lence ; there are the poor and humble, to whom he 
was always a friend and father ; there are few, in- 
deed, who have not, in some way or other, profited 
by his ardent charity, and the shining example 
which he set of every Christian virtue. Do they 
truly wish to prove their heartfelt gratitude? 
Our holy faith teaches them how to do it. Let 
them pray for their benefactor ; let them unite in 



168 DISCOURSE ON 

tlie offering of the holy sacrifice for his departed 
spirit. While we thus endeavor to acquit our- 
selves of a great debt of gratitude, the image of 
this holy man will occupy our minds. And, as he 
was an instrument in the hands of God to bring 
us many blessings while he lived, so will the re- 
membrance of his virtues be profitable to us, now 
that he is dead. For his bright example, however 
imperfectly exhibited, will not only have a tend- 
ency to soothe our sorrow for his loss, but it can- 
not fail to instruct and edify us — inciting us, as I 
trust in God it may, to " be imitators of him, as 
he was of Christ." 

Simon Gabriel Brute was born at Bennes, in 
the province of Little Brittany, in France, on the 
20th day of March, in the year of our Lord one 
thousand seven hundred and seventy-nine. His 
father was a gentleman of wealth and respectabil- 
ity, who held the office of Director of the royal 
domains in Brittany, and died in seventeen hun- 
dred and eighty-six. The fortunes of his family 
were soon scattered by the storms of the French 
Eevolution, and his mother was reduced to the ne- 



BISHOP BRUTE. 169 

cessity of keeping a printing office and a book- 
store for the support of her children. The first 
care of these virtuous parents was to bring up their 
son in the fear and love of God ; they were equal- 
ly zealous to cultivate, by a proper education, 
those native talents, which soon gave promise of a 
brilliant career. He acquired in boyhood and youth 
habits of study, or of close and patient mental ap- 
plication, which he retained through life. In spite 
of that modesty, which prevented him from ever 
speaking in his own praise, I could learn, from a 
long and intimate acquaintance with him, and 
from the testimony of others, that, in the public 
schools of his native city, he was distinguished 
and eminently successful. His after life proved 
it. His mind was too rich in treasures of classic 
lore, too amply furnished from the armories of sci- 
ence, for him to have been a dull or careless 
student. Whether he conversed with a friend, or 
lectured to a class, or heralded the message of sal- 
vation from the pulpit, the evidences of profound 
knowledge, as well as of remarkable genius, inces- 
santly flashed before you. "Whatever he once read 



170 DISCOUKSE ON 

or studied he remembered. Even in the last years 
of his life, when his attention seemed to be ab- 
sorbed in theology and the other branches of eccle- 
siastical learning, he recited with ease all the fa- 
bles of La Fontaine, entire scenes of Kacine and 
Corneille, and the finest passages of other French 
writers or of the Latin poets. Though less familiar 
with the Greek classics, he had read them with ad- 
vantage as well as pleasure, and turned to good 
account his knowledge of their language in the 
study of the Greek fathers of the Church. At one 
time he had it in view to enter the French Poly- 
technic school, and, for this reason, he pursued a 
very extensive course of mathematical science. 
Subsequently he had the best opportunities, in the 
medical school of Paris, of penetrating deeply into 
the mysteries of Chemistry and Natural Philoso- 
phy. He improved them with his usual diligence. 
"While he devoted himself to severer studies, he 
gave some share of attention to music and draw- 
ing, and in the latter of these accomplishments 
he attained a proficiency which, in after years, 
was a source of pleasure and advantage to himself, 



BISHOP BEUTE. 171 

and a means, which, he often happily employed, for 
the purpose of interesting and instructing others. 
His studies were interrupted by the revolutionary 
troubles, and he spent about two years in his 
mother's printing establishment, during which he 
learned and practised the business of a composi- 
tor. It would appear that he was led to this, much 
less by inclination than by the reverses which his 
family had sustained, and the dangers of the times. 
Accordingly, we soon find him in a sphere better 
suited to his tastes and intellectual habits. In the 
year seventeen hundred and ninety-nine, the twen- 
tieth of his age, he entered the medical school of 
Paris, where for three years he attended the lec- 
tures of the first masters of the age. In selecting 
an employment for life, he was guided by a sin- 
cere desire of obeying the divine will, and doing 
good to men, and he looked forward to the medi- 
cal profession as one in which he might consecrate 
his talents and knowledge to noble and philan- 
thropic uses. This choice once made had the 
effect, much less of narrowing the range of his 
studies, than of giving them a definite aim, and 



172 DISCOUESE ON 

stimulating his exertions to the utmost. From Ms 
own particular sphere of intellectual labor, he sur- 
veyed the whole circle of the sciences, and he saw 
that each reflected light on all the others, while 
all, with uniform consent, showed forth the power 
and majesty, the wisdom and the goodness, of the 
"Father of Lights," from whom all knowledge 
emanates, and to whom all the glory of it should 
always be referred. With the ardor, therefore, of 
an enthusiastic votary of truth, he courted useful 
information, wherever it was to be found. 

But what is most important for us, and espe- 
cially for the youthful portion of my auditory to 
observe, is this : that while he zealously devoted 
himself to the pursuit of knowledge, he was eo[ual- 
ly and still more zealous in the pursuit of virtue ; 
while he prepared himself by laborious study to 
render service to his fellow-men, he never forgot 
that higher service which he owed to God. His 
virtuous parents, and especially his mother — a wo- 
man of admirable character ; a parent equally en- 
lightened and affectionate — had inspired his heart 
in childhood with sentiments of tender piety. She 



BISHOP BRUTE. 173 

had built all her hopes of his usefulness and hap- 
piness on the only sure foundation of religion. She 
had taught him in times which tried the souls of 
Christians, to be always ready to lay down his life 
for the faith ; to shed his blood, if necessary, for 
the love of God. You are aware that France was 
then, by her own terrific example, teaching the 
world a great moral and religious lesson. Her rev- 
olutionary rulers had proscribed Christianity, and 
made infidelity and impiety the law of the land. 
History has told you the horrors that ensued. 
While this unhappy country was deluged with the 
blood of her best and noblest sons ; while the 
Cross was torn from its elevation and trampled in 
the dust ; while Churches were pillaged and dese- 
crated, and the faithful obliged, like the primitive 
martyrs, to meet in silence and darkness, at the 
risk of their lives, for the celebration of the divine 
mysteries ; while the Priests, who had not been 
exiled or guillotined, were hunted as wild beasts, 
shot down in the fields, hung to the lamp-posts, or 
reserved for the slow tortures and solemn mock- 
eries of judicial murder ; the prisons were every 



174 DISCOUKSE ON 

where crowded witli those who were too noble- 
minded to conceal or abjure their faith, and these 
heroic sufferers were refused the consolations of re- 
ligion, or could receive them only from such as 
were willing to stake their lives upon the charita- 
ble mission. Simon Gabriel Brut6, then but a boy 
of tender years, with a full knowledge of the risk 
he ran, and with his fond mother's hearty consent, 
was employed to convey the Blessed Sacrament to 
the prisoners in his native town of Kennes. In 
the disguise of a baker's boy, protected only by 
his innocence and premature discretion, or rather 
by his good angel, who fondly bore him company 
on such errands, he supplied the victims of perse- 
cution, not only with that bread which nourishes 
the body, but with the bread of angels — the food 
which gives life to the soul. He made his own 
first communion in the parish church of St. Ger- 
main, in 1791, and the scenes of horrible impiety 
and bloody persecution, which he witnessed soon 
afterwards, but confirmed his faith and animated 
his piety. He saw and shared the apprehension, 
the alarm, the secrecy and danger, with which God 



BISHOP BEUTE. 175 

was worsliipped, and Ms mysteries dispensed to the 
faithful. He saw, and as we have noticed, he sym- 
pathized with heroic confessors imprisoned and ex- 
posed to death for their attachment to religion. 
He saw the sanctity of the cloisture sacrilegiously 
invaded, and helpless nuns, who had hoped to 
spend their days in retirement and prayer, cast 
out upon a heartless world by ferocious monsters, 
who professed to be the friends of liberty and hu- 
manity. He saw the procession of venerable 
Priests, and heard them chanting in solemn har- 
mony the " Miserere " and ^' De profundis," as 
they marched, a noble band of martyrs, from the 
tribunal of injustice to the pla^ of execution. 
He saw numbers of innocent victims of every class 
led as lambs to the slaughter, because of their un- 
wavering allegiance to the faith " once delivered to 
the saints." Thus familiar in his early years with 
the elevating spectacle of religion triumphant over 
suffering and death, his soul was nerved for heroic 
deeds of virtue, and he understood and felt in its 
full force the exclamation of St. Paul : " Who 
shall separate us from the love of Christ ? Shall 



176 DISCOURSE ON 

tribulatioiij or distress, or famine, or nakedness, or 
danger, or persecution, or the sword ? * * * 
* * In all these things we overcome, because 
of Him that hath loved us/'^ But greater trials 
yet awaited him. Though trained to piety betimes, 
and accustomed to regard religion as a pearl above 
all price ; though even in the very morning of 
life he had girded himself for mortal conflict, with 
a courage not unworthy of the martyr's crown — 
yet had he need of all the deep impressions en- 
graved upon his soul, and of no ordinary strength 
of mind, and of a fortitude which Heaven only 
could bestow, to pass, with principles unshaken, 
and piety unim;^aired, through the medical schools 
of the French capital. Infidehty sat on the pro- 
fessorial chairs, which were then indeed " the chairs 
of pestilence," and impiety reigned among the li- 
centious students, who received instruction from 
them. The lecturers, such men as Lamarck, 
Fourcroy, and Pinel, never lost an opportunity of 
venting a sophism or a sneer against religion ; the 
auditors never applauded so heartily as when these 

'Rom. viii. 35,37, 



BISHOP BRUTE. 177 

poisoned shafts were flung amongst them. The 
boldest Atheism and the grossest materialism were 
studiously professed, and it was assumed, as an 
established truth, that death is annihilation, and 
that man, like the beasts of the field, having no 
God and no accountability, should have neither 
hopes nor fears beyond the grave. Yet there was 
a noble band of youths who would not bow down 
to the idols which impious men had erected, but, 
like the children of Israel in the fiery furnace, 
passed unscathed through the midst of the flames ^ 
" For the angel of the Lord walked with them, 
and the fire touched them not at all, nor troubled 
them, nor did them any harm." ^ Need I say that 
the subject of this discourse was of their number ? 
that he could, neither be entangled in the meshes 
of infidel sophistry nor driven from the profession 
and practice of his faith by the sneers of profligate 
fellow-students, nor decoyed into vice by their per- 
suasions and example ? On the contrary, he was 
the advocate of good morals and the defender of re- 
ligion, among those who scofl'ed both at morals and 

' Daniel Hi. 5Q, 



178 • DISCOUKSE ON 

religion ; he was a model of piety, wliere piety was 
most unfashionaMe, and to a weak and coward mind 
would liave appeared no longer respectable. His 
zeal for the honor of God and the interests of truth 
would not permit him to be always silent when 
both were attacked, and, with the Christian por- 
tion of the medical students, he entered into a 
plan of defence, which was ultimately attended 
with success. "When the infidel sneer or sophism 
of the professor was received by others with ap- 
plause, they expressed, moderately but firmly, 
their disapprobation. The ablest of their num- 
ber selected for his thesis a subject allied to some 
great question in Natural Theology, and offered a 
triumphant refutation of the materialism and other 
false but favorite theories of their teachers. The 
gauntlet thus boldly flung down was not taken up 
by the Professors, and the author of the thesis, 
without challenge or objection, won the highest 
honors. These contests at length attracted the 
vigilant attention of the Government, and a hint 
thrown out in the columns of its official organ, 
that the First Consul, who believed religion the es- 



BISHOP BRUTE. 179 

sential basis of society, and was laboring to re-es- 
tablish it, could not, without displeasure, learn 
that it was exposed to be assailed and insulted in 
the public schools, had the effect of confining the 
lecturers to their appropriate themes. 

Assuredly it was by keeping a strict guard over 
his passions, and not without the grace of God com- 
municated through its regular channels, fervent 
prayer and the frequent reception of the sacra- 
ments, that this virtuous youth preserved himself 
from the prevalent contagion, and, by a pru- 
dent but independent course, triumphed over 
the difficulties of his situation. He acquired, 
therefore, a rich fund of useful knowledge from 
the teaching of men, who, though distinguished 
for eminent genius and vast research, yet in 
the pride of their hearts would not acknowl- 
edge the supremacy of God, nor refer to him 
the honor of the gifts which had been lav- 
ished on them ; but he acquired none of their 
baleful and demoralizing scepticism. On the con- 
trary, he saw more clearly the evidences of truth 
by observing how darkened and deformed the no- 



180 DISCOUESE ON 

West minds became^ when its light no longer 
beamed on them : '' because," to repeat one of his 
favorite quotations from St. Paul, " when they 
knew God, they did not glorify him as God, nor 
give thanks, but became vain in their thoughts, 
and their foolish heart was darkened ; for, profess- 
ing themselves to be wise, they became fools." ^ He 
perceived better than ever, amid the dismal scenes 
of impiety which he was compelled to witness, the 
loveliness of virtue and the beauty of holiness, and 
the calm but sweet satisfaction of a life of Chris- 
tian piety. Already, then, that wisdom " which 
delivereth from sorrow them that attend upon her, 
conducted him through right ways, and showed 
him the Kingdom of God." For often, in these 
times of trial, had he raised his soul to heaven and 
breathed the spirit of that beautiful prayer of Sol- 
omon : " God of my fathers and Lord of mercy, 
jif i^ i;c- .::- j^^j ^visdom, which knoweth thy 

works, which then also was present, when thou 
madest the world and knew what was agreeable to 
thy eyes and what was right in thy command- 

1 Rom. i. 21, 22. 



BISHOP BRUTE. 181 

ments, — send her out of thy holy Heaven, and 
from the throne of thy majesty, that she may be 
with me and labor with me, that I may know what 
is acceptable with thee/'^ 

How impressive should his example be to the 
young and ardent, but too often the unwise stu- 
dent ! Let such remember, that he whom I 
propose as a model, and of whom I speak with 
knowledge derived from long and intimate ac- 
quaintance, was not the consecrated minister of 
God, nor yet the secluded ecclesiastic aspiring to 
a place before the holy altar, at the period in his 
history to which I have referred. He was living in 
the midst of the world, qualifying himself for a 
secular profession, and beset with more than the 
ordinary dangers of youth. Indeed, there was 
every thing that could seduce him from the service 
of God and the care of sanctifying his soul. There 
was the ardent and vigorous pursuit of science, 
with hundreds of emulous competitors ; there was 
the bustle and the giddy dissipation of the gayest 
capital in the world ; there was the tumult and 

^ Wisdom ix. 9, 10. 



182 DISCOUKSE ON 

entliusiastic excitement of Paris, while the star of 
Napoleon was in the ascendant, and the tidings of 
victory after victory flushed and almost madden- 
ed the youthful minds of France. With infidel 
teachers and impious and libertine fellow-students, 
his ears tingled incessantly with the echoes of ir- 
religious sophistry and blasphemy, while he could 
scarcely avert his eyes from the contagious specta- 
cle of vice and profligacy. Yet he retained his 
innocence and his religion. He was virtuous, pi- 
ous, exemplary. How then should they blush, 
who, with every thing around them pointing to re- 
ligion and piety, complain of the difficulties of prac- 
tising their Christian duties and leading virtuous 
lives ! How little steadiness of principle or stabil- 
ity of character must they have ! How slight the 
temptations, compared with those which he over- 
came, that are sufficient to make them traitors 
alike to conscience and to God ! And what shall 
be thought of their vain pretences and excuses, 
when at the day of judgment such examples as his 
shall rise up to condemn them, and put the misera- 
ble sophistry of their passions to everlasting shame ? 



BISHOP BEUTE. 183 

The subject of our discourse had studied with 
ardor and success, and he graduated as a Doctor 
of Medicine in the year 1803, with the highest 
honors of the school. Among twelve hundred fel- 
low-students, and I know not how many compet- 
itors, the first place was accorded to him by the 
impartial voice of his professors. They proudly 
complimented and encouraged their distinguished 
pupil ; and all his friends predicted a brilliant 
career in the profession which he had chosen, and 
the knowledge of which he had so honorably mas- 
tered. But God had ordained otherwise. Keturn- 
ing to his native city, he gave the benefit of his 
advice and attendance gratuitously to the poor of 
that place, while he remained there ; but he never 
sought to establish himself in the practice of med- 
icine. Yet he did not relinquish the profession in 
disgust. He always honored it, as one of the no- 
blest to which a highly gifted and philanthropic 
man can devote himself When a priest, and even 
when elevated to the Episcopacy, he acknowledged 
on all proper occasions his attachment to a profes- 
£ion to which he still felt himself linked by many 



184 DISCOURSE ON 

pleasing associations, and by tlie remembrance 
of years of honorable study. Delightful as bis 
conversation was to all, and to men of science 
in particular, it was peculiarly so to the student 
or to tbe practitioner and professor of medical sci- 
ence. They often expressed 'their astonishment, 
that after the lapse of twenty or thirty years, en- 
grossed by pursuits of a very different order, he 
retained so perfect and minute a knowledge of all 
that he had studied in his youth, under the great 
masters of the French capital. 

If then he turned his thoughts to a higher 
calling, it was from the purest motives, and not 
without intimations of the divine will. His tried 
fidelity to his Creator in the days of his youth, his 
fervent prayers and ardent love of God and char- 
ity towards men, his holy eagerness to purify and 
strengthen and enrich his soul by frequently and 
worthily approaching the sacraments of penance 
and the Eucharist, were regarded by his heavenly 
Father with smiles of divine complacency ; and 
he was rewarded with a vocation to a state of 
greater perfection and more abundant blessings. 



BISHOP BRUTE. 185 

Sensible of the awful importance of a right de- 
cision in such a case^ he reflected maturely, in- 
voked the light of heaven, took the advice of a 
prudent director, and then, obedient to the divine 
voice within, he entered the Seminary of St. Sul- 
pitius at Paris, a candidate for the holy priesthood. 
You have regarded him as an example for youth- 
ful students in the world ; from this moment he 
be'comes the model of those who belong to the 
Sanctuary. If he has been pious and edifying in 
the lively and dangerous scenes through which he 
has passed, he is much more zealous for the sub- 
lime virtues of his holy vocation, in the retirement 
to which God has called him. If he sought, with 
ardor and unremitting toil, for secular knowledge, 
while he destined himself for a secular profession, 
with still greater ardor and more unremitting toil, 
even with a holy enthusiasm and in the true spirit 
of patient, self-denying labor, does he pursue that 
knowledge which ought to adorn the ecclesiastical 
profession. It is thus only he could have acquired 
those immense stores of erudition, which for so 
many years caused him to be consulted by men of 



186 DISCOURSE ON 

letters, by learned ecclesiastics, even by the high- 
est dignitaries of the Church in these United 
States, as a sort of oracle or a living library of 
sacred erudition. Besides those treasures of knowl- 
edge, which he bore away from his earlier studies 
as the children of Israel carried the spoils of Egypt 
into the Holy Land, he became intimately con- 
versant, (more so perhaps than any other man this 
country has ever seen,) with the writings of the 
Fathers of the Church and the primitive sources 
of ecclesiastical history. He turned his attention 
to the Hebrew language, in consequence of its im- 
portance in relation to the sacred scriptures, which 
were now his constant study. Scholastic theology 
he acquired thoroughly, and he grew familiar with 
all the great defenders and ornaments of religion in 
every age. Hence there were few subjects indeed 
on which he was not able, when consulted, to throw 
a strong light, no matter what depth of research or 
extent of reading the understanding of them re- 
quired. Now it is true, that he was always a 
student ; that however arduous and manifold his 
duties, he always found leisure to extend the circle 



BISHOP BRUTE. 187 

of his acquirements ; that no man ever husbanded 
more carefully the precious gift of time, and none, 
in any walk of life, could have evinced a greater 
enthusiasm for knowledge ; yet assuredly, if he 
had not laid the foundations of his ecclesiastical 
learning both deep and strong, while he studied 
in a Seminary, he never could have reared upon 
them that solid and magnificent edifice, which so 
long commanded the admiration of all that beheld 
its towering height and the goodly proportions of 
its structure. 

But we should entertain a very erroneous opin- 
ion of his occupation at this period, did we imagine 
that learning, however noble or holy, was his chief 
pursuit. His great object, and that to which every 
thing else was subservient, was his sanctification. 
His studies were all carried on at the foot of the 
cross ; and like St. Paul, he sought " to know 
nothing, but Jesus Christ and him crucified."^ 
His constant care was so to discipline himself 
that he might truly and perseveringly " deny him- 
self, and take up his cross, and follow "^ his meek 

^ 1 Cor. ii. 2, ' Matthew xvi. 24. 



188 DISCOURSE ON 

and patient Eedeemer. His most ardent desire 
was, that " darist might dwell by faith in his 
heart, and that being rooted and founded in Char- 
ity, he might be able to comprehend with all the 
saints what is the breadth, and length, and height, 
and depth ; to know also the charity of Christ, 
which surpasseth all knowledge/'^ His occupation 
therefore was not only nor chiefly study ; it was 
prayer ; it was meditating on holy things ; "a 
conversation in Heaven " with the Saints and the 
King of Saints and Angels ; it was dedicating 
himself unreservedly to the service of God, and 
oifering his heart v/ith all its affections as a hol- 
ocaust on the altar of divine love. It was a con- 
stant striving to conform himself in all things to 
the image of Christ ; it was — for he knew well the 
vanity and hollo wness of all pretensions to contem- 
plative piety not founded on humility and confirmed 
by self-denying practice — it was implicit obedience 
to the directions of his superiors, and the prompt 
and willing discharge, before Grod and as an offering 
to God, of every duty which they assigned to him. 

^ Epliesians iii. 17, 18, 19. 



BISHOP BKUTE. 189 

If he catechized the children of some parish in 
the city, it was in the spirit of our blessed Ee- 
deemer, when he said, " Suffer little children to 
come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is 
the kingdom of heaven ; '"^ if intrusted with the 
cleansing and decorating of the sanctuary, he ful- 
filled the duty with those sentiments which led 
holy David to exclaim, " How lovely are thy tab- 
ernacles, Lord of hosts 1 my soul longeth and 
fainteth for the courts of the Lord : better is one 
day in thy house above thousands ; "^ if called 
upon to minister as an assistant to the priest at 
the altar, he felt himself honored by the sacred 
dignity of the office ; he stood before the victim 
offered up to God in the holy sacrifice, as if he 
stood by the cross of Calvary, with Mary Magda- 
len, and the beloved disciple, and Mary the Mother 
of Jesus ; and he retired saying within himself, 
" How terrible is this place ! this is no other 
but the house of God and the gate of Heaven/'^ 
Thus for five years did he spend his time in re- 
tirement, devoted to sacred study and pious exer- 

* Matthew xix. 14. ^Ps. Ixxxiii. ^ Gen. xxviii. 17. 



190 DISCOURSE ON 

cises, living in a numerous community, respected 
and beloved alike by equals and superiors, and 
giving an example of the humilityj simplicity, and 
obedience, which should always characterize the 
young ecclesiastic. Thus did he " choose to be an 
abject in the house of his God ; " and as " the 
sparrow findeth herself a house, and the turtle a 
nest for herself, where she may lay her young,'' 
so did he find himself a home, even by " thy al- 
tars, Lord of hosts ! " and there having in his 
heart disposed to ascend by steps, he went from 
virtue to virtue,^ " having thy word for a lamp to 
his feet and a light to his paths,''^ and taking 
" the Lord for the portion of his inheritance and 
of his chalice/'^ In this manner he prepared 
himself for the great end at which he aimed — the 
worthy reception of the holy order of priesthood. 
He knew its sublime dignity and becoming holi- 
ness : he foresaw and armed himself against its dan- 
gers. How often he repeated to himself and to 
others that saying of St. Chrysostom, " the priest 
is another Christ." How beautifully and feelingly 

*Ps. Ixxxiii. 'Ps. cxviii. 105. ^Ps. xv. 



BISHOP BRUTE. 191 

he developed the lessons conveyed to the clergy, 
even more than to the laity, in those words of St. 
Paul : " Let a man so look npon us as the minis- 
ters of Christ and the dispensers of the mysteries 
of Grod."^ How eloquently he would describe the 
peculiar prerogatives and happiness of the holy 
and edifying priest, the " faithful dispenser," the 
true " man of God ! " And with what profound 
feeling he would weep over that scene of sadder 
ruin and desolation than any which Jeremias has 
lamented : the beauty of holiness departed from 
the sanctuary ; its lights extinguished ; its stately 
columns, once its strength and ornament, fallen, 
brokeu, and dishonored — stumbling-blocks to them 
who would enter into the house of Grod ! With 
such conceptions of the sublime dignity and awful 
responsibility of the sacerdotal profession, he re- 
ceived the ordination and entered on the duties of 
a minister of Christ. This took place on the feast 
of the most holy Trinity, in the year 1808. 

Remarkable events are not to be looked for in 
the retired life of a pious ecclesiastical student ; 

' Cor. iv. 1. 



192 DISCOURSE ON 

yet an occasion arose for the exhibition of a marked 
trait in his character. A friend of his and former 
fellow-student had fallen under the suspicion of 
the imperial government. He was deprived of his 
liberty, and threatened with loss of life. Deeply 
interested in his behalf, and convinced of his inno- 
cence, Mr. Brute sought in vain to have his case 
revised. As a last resource, he prepared a memo- 
rial to the Emperor ; and for want of a better op- 
portunity to present it, he seized one which he 
thought was offered him while serving mass in 
the imperial chapel. When mass was ended, he 
flew from the sanctuary, in the hope of anticipat- 
ing the Emperor as he hastily retired by a private 
passage. Failing in the attempt, he flung his 
memorial before him ; but here too he was foiled 
by the rapidity of Bonaparte's motions, and came 
near being bayoneted by the gens d'armes in at- 
tendance. The imprudent boldness of the Sem- 
inarian, which might indeed have been attended 
with serious consequences, was censured by his 
superiors ; but the devoted fidelity of the friend 
was admired by all. 



BISHOP BRUTE. 193 

After Ms ordination, Mr. Brute became a 
member of the Society of St. Sulpitius. He be- 
lieved it to be the will of bis heavenly Master that 
be sbould consecrate bis talents to tbe important 
labor of educating aspirants to tbe boly ministry. 
He knew wbat great services tbis society bad ren- 
dered to religion in France, and be saw in it illus- 
trious models of every priestly quality. Of its 
members be ever afterwards spoke in terms of sin- 
cere attachment and profound respect. He en- 
tertained a peculiar veneration for tbe Superior 
General, tbe Abbe Emery, a man wbom even 'Na- 
poleon, having tried in vain to bend bis inflexible 
integrity to his own despotic will, was compelled 
to admire for his conscientious firmness and unaf- 
fected piety ; and be used to say that be bad never 
met with any one in whose character all the virtues 
were so happily blended, all tbe good qualities of 
mind and heart so well proportioned and so nicely 
balanced. An early proof was given of tbe regard 
in which the talents of"tbe young priest were held. 
Soon after he had taken boly orders, he was offered 
the appointment of assistant Chaplain to the Em- 



194 DISCOUKSE ON 

peror. He declined the offer, and, in obedience to 
his Bishop, repaired to the Seminaiy of Kennes, 
where he was immediately ajapointed Professor of 
Theology, an ofhce which he filled with equal 
honor and ability, until he embarked for America 
in the summer of 1810, in company with Mr. 
Flaget, the present venerable and saintly Bishop 
of Bardstown. The voice of his superiors was 
to him the voice of Grod ; and dearly as he loved 
his country, his friends, his fond relatives, and that 
admirable mother who first taught him to jjlace 
all his hopes in heaven, and loved to mark his 
progress from virtue to virtue and from step to step 
in the holy ministry, until he stood in the very 
presence of the " God of Gods in Sion ; '' still, 
without a moment's hesitation, he broke these 
cherished ties, and in the spirit of the Apostles, 
went forth to preach the Gospel in a far-off foreign 
land. He arrived in the United States on the 9th 
of August, 1810, and immediately joined his breth- 
ren of the Sulpitian Society at Baltimore. He 
was Professor of Philosophy in St. Mary's College, 
until the 15th of December, 1815, when he was 



BI^OP BRUTE. 195 

chosen President. The College, under his govern- 
ment, advanced in reputation. Before his eleva- 
tion to the presidency, he took an active part in 
vindicatino; its character and the relioious belief of 
its professors against certain charges brought for- 
ward by the Presbytery of Baltimore, in a '' Pas- 
toral Letter," and reiterated, though not sustained, 
in a " Defence of the Pastoral." In a spirited 
Dialogue, pregnant with wit and learning, he ex- 
posed to merited contempt the blundering mis- 
representations and declamatory virulence of the 
assailants of St. Mary's. He proved his zeal and 
charity at this period, by spending his vacations 
in missionary excursions to places where the Cath- 
olics had not the benefit of a resident pastor. The 
confidence of his worthy associates was manifested 
by the post which they assigned him ; nor was he 
less respected and beloved by Archbishop Carroll, 
whose long and honorable course of eminent ser- 
vices to religion and his country was now drawing 
to its close. Accustomed as Mr. Brute was to the 
splendor which surrounds the high ecclesiastical 
dignitaries of Europe, he found something inex- 



196 DISCOUKSE ON 

pressibly noble and affecting in the hnmble cir- 
cumstances, the simple dignity of manners, and 
apostolic labors of tbis venerable prelate. 

In June, 1818, be resigned bis office in the Col- 
lege at Baltimore, and removed to Mount St. 
Mary's. From tbis period until bis elevation to 
tbe Episcopacy, our own institution and our own 
neigbborbood became tbe tbeatre of bis talents and 
virtues ; and here, comparatively bid from the 
gaze of the world, he found room for the exercise 
of them all. His duties were multiplied and va- 
rious, and required, to discharge them well, no or- 
dinary share of zeal, industry, and versatility of 
powers. He was confessor to the Sisters of Char- 
ity, and for many years pastor of the congregation 
of Emmittsburg, while he frequently exercised in 
tbis congregation some of the most arduous func- 
tions of tbe holy ministry. In our Ecclesiastical 
Seminary, he lectured on sacred Scripture, and 
was Professor of Theology and of Moral Philoso- 
phy. In the College he taught, at different times, 
Natural Philosophy and various other branches. 
True greatness dignifies whatever sphere it moves 



BISHOP BBUTE. 197 

in. His genius and learning were conspicuous, 
wlien they expatiated tlirough the Palace-halls of 
the Queen of Sciences, — Divinity : they were not 
less admirable when they descended to the humble 
task of teaching youth Greography, or explaining the 
little catechism to children. As Paul planted and 
Apollo watered, but God gave the increase,^ so, 
having the immediate direction of the ecclesiastical 
students and the chief care of instructing them, he 
nurtured with pious solicitude and zeal the grow- 
ing Seminary, which the venerable Mr. Dubois had 
devoted all his energies to plant and rear, and the 
labors of both were rewarded by Heaven with 
abundant fruits. His cheerful piety, amiable man- 
ners, and lively interest in the welfare of his pu- 
pils, were sure to win their hearts ; his eminent 
holiness of life secured not only respect but vene- 
ration. His exhortations to virtue and piety could 
scarcely fail of effect, because he recommended 
only what he practised himself. No standard of 
Christian or priestly excellence to which he point- 
ed, could appear too high, since he was himself a 

' Cor. iii. 6. 



198 DISCOUKSE ON 

living instance of its attainment. If forgetful of 
this earth he always pointed and allured to 
Heaven^ he also led the way. His piety was most 
tender and affectionate, and he showed clearly by 
his example what it is to love God with one's 
whole heart and whole soul, and with all the pow- 
ers of one's mind. In all things he was a model 
to those subject to his direction. His hours of 
sleep were few, and, long before the morning's 
dawn, he arose to converse with his God, and give 
to him the first fruits of the day. During these 
early meditations, his soul, absorbed in heavenly 
contemplation and intimate union with its Crea- 
tor, was largely visited with the refreshing dews of 
Divine grace, and when he approached the altar 
and offered up the holy sacrifice, his heart, already 
full to overflowing, was always overpowered by 
mingled emotions of reverential awe, and grati- 
tude, and love, and often found relief in copious 
tears. He descended to the discharge of his ordi- 
nary duties, but, like Moses, he bore the marks of 
converse with his God, and, as words of heavenly 
wisdom fell from his tongue, you could readily fancy 



BISHOP BRUTE. 199 

that his lips^ like those of Isaias, had been touched 
by the seraph with living coals of fire from the 
altar. His time was all divided between prayer 
and labor. He loved so well ^^ the beauty of the 
house of the Lord, and the place where his glory 
dwelleth/' ^ that he would spend whole hours kneel- 
ing before the Blessed Sacrament; and eventually 
he made it a rule, whenever it was practicable, to 
recite the divine office in this holy presence. 
Thither he would repair on returning from a long 
journey, during the rigors of winter, and, until he 
had satisfied this devotion, no persuasions could 
induce him to attend to his personal comfort ; at 
other times, unless he was engaged in active du- 
ties, you would find him in the midst of his splen- 
did library, surrounded by the writings of the 
Fathers and Doctors of the Church, and whatever 
besides is most rare and valuable in science and 
literature, pursuing his elevated studies with in- 
tense application and wonderful activity 'of mind, 
or committing to paper, for the benefit of others, 
the results of his profound investigations. His 

^ Psalm xXYi 



200 DISCOURSE ON 

recreation was "but variety of labor. When Ms 
wearied mind demanded its turn of relaxation, 
tlie most arduous bodily toil succeeded; and this 
round of exertions, mental and corporeal, was kept 
up with an elasticity of spirits and activity of 
mind truly surprising. After a journey of fifty 
miles, performed on foot in a single day, book in 
hand, praying and reading by turns, and scarcely 
stopping to take the simple refection that nature 
required, he would meet his friends in the evening 
with a freshness of spirits and gayety of conversa- 
tion which could not be surpassed. If, as a pas- 
tor, he had made an appointment, no obstacle 
could prevent him from keeping it. The moun- 
tain torrent, swollen with wintry rains and over- 
flowing its banks, could not stop him. If other 
means of crossing it were not at hand, he plunged 
into its freezing tide, and, amid masses of floating 
ice, swam to the opposite shore. No sacrifice of 
comfort or necessary repose, neither hunger nor 
thirst, nor summer's heats nor winter's colds, could 
check his enthusiastic zeal or cause him to fail in 
punctuality to his engagement. But his charity 



Jl^ 



BISHOP BKUTE. 201 

towards the poor was perhaps the most edifying 
trait in his character. It did not consist in mere- 
ly pitying their miseries and exhorting others to 
reheve them. He was in the habit of visiting 
them in person, and in his own hands he bore the 
assistance which they needed, and he was able to 
procure them, — thus literally " feeding the hungry 
and clothing the naked." His benevolence was 
ingenious in obtaining means for its exercise. 
Many a time he stripped himself of garments ne- 
cessary to his own comfort, to bestow them on some 
shivering victim of poverty. But he seemed to 
delight in suffering himself, that he might allevi- 
ate the sufferings of others. Ingratitude on their 
part but inflamed his charity the more. The bigot, 
who drove him from his door by day, could not 
prevent him from bringing clothes and provisions 
to his needy family by night. However careful he 
might be to conceal his extraordinary good works, 
the general tenor and spirit of his conduct could 
not be hidden from the^,young ecclesiastics, whom 
}ie taught by word and example. 

As a Professor of Theology, he excelled chiefly 
9 



202 DISCOURSE ON 

in two things — a vast erudition, whicli left noth- 
ing unexplored, and a singular power of general- 
izing, which enabled him to grasp his whole sub- 
ject and handle it with ease, by bringing all its de- 
tails under a few grand principles. In exhibiting 
and supporting these principles he put forth all his 
strength. After adducing the evidence, which his 
extensive reading readily furnished, elucidating it 
by his luminous explanations, and applying the 
logical tests with cautious judgment and impartial 
rigor, his excursive mind brought in a rich and al- 
most gorgeous profusion of analogies and illustra- 
tions from every part of the wide domains of hu- 
man knowledge. Thus qualified for the task of 
directing and instructing ecclesiastics, he was able 
to render immense services to religion. Time will 
not permit me to unfold the proofs of his useful- 
ness in this regard, but there is scarcely a diocese 
in this country which is not indebted (some of 
them very largely indebted) to his zeal, piety, and 
learning, and his great success in communicating 
his own spirit and knowledge to those whose eccle- 
siastical education he directed. If many worthy 



BISHOP BRUTE. 203 

and higUy useful missionaries liave gone forth 
from Mount St. Mary's to bear the blessings of re- 
ligion to those who had them not before, or were 
but iU-provided with them, it is, under God, ow- 
ing in a great degree to Mr. Brute. If the bold 
assailants of our faith have been made to repent 
their temerity by its able defenders, no small pro- 
portion of these issued from the school, and were 
armed for the defence by the learning of Bishop 
Brute. If Mount St. Mary's has contributed more 
than her quota, both of priests distinguished for 
zeal, piety, and eloquence, and of the Bishops, 
who in our portion of the Church adorn the mitre 
by their learning, talents, and virtue ; who can 
marvel at this, who knows aught of the transcend- 
ent genius, the deep erudition, the apostolic 
spirit, and bright example, of Bishop Brute ? 

Let us turn to other spheres, in which he la- 
bored with equal devotion and similar success. He 
was for many years the spiritual director of the 
Sisters of Charity at St. Joseph's, in our vicinity, 
and the main auxiliary of Mr. Dubois, under 
whose superiorship the sisterhood arose from the 



204 DISCOURSE ON 

humblest beginnings to a state of prosperous ma- 
turity. It was Mr. Brute's arduous and responsi- 
ble task to strengthen the vocation^ foster the pie- 
ty, enlighten and confirm the virtue, and fan into 
a burning flame the charity, both of the novices 
and professed Sisters. He and the venerable Su- 
perior were both men of God ; to Grod they recom- 
mended all their undertakings, trusting in him 
alone for success ; and his grace was with them 
and his blessing on their labors. Look abroad and 
behold the fruits of their zeal in the charitable in- 
stitutions which adorn the land, and avert from it 
the anger of Heaven. The helpless orphan has 
found a mother to feed, and clothe, and comfort 
its distress, and teach its infant tongue to hsp the 
blessed name of Jesus. The raving maniac is 
soothed and calmed, and readily yields obedience 
to the sweet voice of heavenly charity. The des- 
titute sick enter the public hospital or infirmary 
assured of having a tender nurse, whose soft tones 
shall charm away the pains of disease, or cause 
them to be patiently borne, for the love of their 
suffering Saviour. When pestilence stalks through 



BISHOP BRUTE. 205 

the land, and friends and neighbors flee from tlie 
house of infection, and " they that were near stand 
afar oiF," charity leads her humble daughters 
there, fearlessly to inhale the breath of contagion, 
and to be the servants of those who else would 
have none to help them : and there are angels of 
mercy bending over the bedside of the dying, who, 
while they wipe away from the sunken brow the 
clammy sweat of death, fix the dimmed eye on the 
sign of salvation, and turn its expiring glance to 
Heaven. Under God we are indebted — humanity, 
charity, religion, is in no slight degree indebted — 
for these blessed results to the ardent zeal of 
Bishop Dubois and Bishop Brute. 

Let the pious congregation of Emmittsburg 
tell how fruitful were the labors of their beloved 
pastor. Let this whole neighborhood attest the 
happy effects of his missionary toils, his instruc- 
tions, his prayers, his unquenchable charity. 
Where is the poor man's cottage that he has not 
entered as the messenger of peace and mercy ? 
Who was sick, and he did not visit and comfort 



206 DISCOURSE ON 

him ? Who was in want, and he did not afford 
him, poor though he was himself, and always 
wished to be, some charitable relief ? What road 
was there so rough, what weather so inclement, 
what night so dark, that he would not fly, on foot 
' and alone, to minister the sweet consolations of re- 
ligion ? Did scandals arise ? How his soul 
burned within him until the scandal was extin- 
guished and the evil remedied ! Were neighbors 
at enmity ? I have seen him cowering under the 
fury of a winter storm, and pelted with driving 
sleet and snow, as he returned a considerable dis- 
tance from the blessed work of reconciliation. It 
was the anniversary of that day on which our Sa- 
viour died to make our peace with God. But who 
can recount the innumerable instances of his dis- 
interested zeal, his burning charity, his heroic self- 
denial ? How many of his virtuous deeds — how 
many acts of benevolence, now known to none but 
God, will be brought to light before the assem- 
bled universe on the great day, when every one 
shall receive his proper retribution ! Of his ex- 
traordinary piety and holiness I need say nothing 



BISHOP BRUTE. 207 

to this congregation ; for^ though his was emi- 
nently "a life hidden with Christ in God,"^ yet 
the flame of divine love that glowed in his breast 
was too strong and bright to be concealed ; and 
much more than he desired " did his light shine 
before men, so that seeing his good works they 
glorified their Father who is in Heaven."^ When 
you beheld him at this altar offering up the spot- 
less Lamb that takes away the sins of the world, 
you knew that you beheld indeed the "man of 
God," the worthy " minister of Christ " and faith- 
ful " dispenser of the mysteries of God." When 
he proclaimed to you the truths of the Gospel, 
you were sure that you listened to the messenger 
of Heaven. Even those who could not under- 
stand him, because of his imperfect pronunciation 
of our language, often went away deeply moved 
and edified ; although they could not account for 
this effect, nor explain it otherwise than by saying 
that he appeared to them not as a man, but as an 
angel, speaking to their souls in the name and by 
the authority of God. But for those who did under- 

^ Col. iii. 3. 2 Matthew v. 16. 



208 DISCOUKSE ON 

stand him well, what a rich spiritual repast was 
afforded by his eloquence — ^for he was eloquent in 
spite of his defects of idiom and pronunciation ! 
How pleased were they to hang upon his accents ! 
How did they love to follow the eagle flights of his 
genius ! How soon did their faith shake off its 
heavy slumbers, as conscience, from the deep 
abysses of the heart, responded to his bold appeals, 
and the smallest spark of charity rose into a con- 
suming flame, and hope grew strong within them, 
and began to &s. si> steady look on Heaven ! And 
how much more eloquent in the cause of virtue 
than eloquence itself was the powerful pleading 
of his example ! 

Oh, my beloved brethren ! if much shall be re- 
quired of them to whom much is given, ^ (and we 
are assured of this by the oracles of divine truth,) 
what a fearful account shall they have to render, 
on whom the blessings of such a man's ministry 
shall have been lavished in vain ! and, to indulge 
a more cheering sentiment, how great should be 
your gratitude to God, who sent his favored ser- 

^ Luke xii. 48. 



BISHOP BRUTE. 209 

vant to this portion of his vineyard, and left him 
so long among you ; so that you have been in a 
manner brought up in faith and piety at his feet, 
and have looked up to him, as he moved in your 
midst doing good to all, not as to one of this world, 
but almost as to a superior being descended on a 
mission of mercy and love, and caring only to allure 
and win you back to that Heaven, which he re- 
garded, and taught you to regard, as your true 
country and your only home. 

But the time arrived when this " burning and 
shining light " was to be placed on the golden can- 
dlestick of the Apostles. A Bishop was required 
for Yincennes, — one worthy to be the first occu- 
pant of a newly-erected see ; and the eye of the 
distant Father of all the Faithful, piercing the ob- 
scurity of our mountain solitude, rested on the dis- 
tinguished qualifications of Mr. Brute. I know 
that he would gladly have avoided this appoint- 
ment. I know that he would have preferred our 
humble retirement to any post of honor, — I need 
not add of emolument, for that he ever disdained 
as unworthy of a priest. A splendid episcopacy 



210 DISCOURSE ON 

he would undoubtedly have declined. But to 
make new sacrifices, — to take up his lot in poverty 
and privation among entire strangers, — to go far 
from whatever was dear to him on Earth, — to be 
an instrument in the hands of Providence for 
spreading the glad tidings of salvation and causing 
God's name to be honored in the rising "West, and 
to use his influence in his mother country to pro- 
cure missionaries and other means for carrying on 
the work of redemption in the land of his adop- 
tion, — this his spirit of self-denial, his zeal, his 
charity, would not permit him to refuse. In any 
case it would have been a trial to his conscience to 
have exercised even the right of respectful remon- 
strance, when the visible head of Christ's church 
had spoken. He dared not do so, when that voice 
called upon him to make so many sacrifices and 
endure so much. He therefore bowed his head to 
a thorny mitre, and in the fall of 1834 proceeded 
towards his distant diocese. He left us ; but he 
never forgot his beloved Mountain. Twice he re- 
visited us. Twice his fond looks wandered over 
this cherished spot, whose very name was endeared 



BISHOP BRUTE. 211 

to him by his tender devotion to the Mother of 
God ; where every object wore the charm of old 
familiarity, and where he had hoped to spend the 
quiet evening of his days, and, when his sun of 
life had set, to mingle his remains with those of 
former friends, who seemed to await him in their 
peaceful mountain graves. The first time he was 
on his return from Europe. He had stood amid 
the ruins and resurrection of the Eternal City ; he 
had received the blessing of the common Father of 
the Christian world, and he had been honored with 
marks of his peculiar esteem and favor. With in- 
expressible emotions of thankfulness and joy, he had 
offered up the victim of salvation in the Eucharist- 
ic sacrifice on the tombs of the Apostles : he had 
also scanned with the eye of genius and cultivated 
taste the noble productions of ancient and modern 
art, plunged into the labyrinths of Eome's great 
libraries, and by the evidences of his enlightened 
curiosity and profound erudition, as well as of his 
virtuous simplicity of manners, won the admira- 
tion of the first scholars of the age, — of such men 
as Cardinal Angelo Mali and Cardinal Mezzofanti. 



212 DISCOUKSE ON 

At Vienna lie liad been Tishered into palaces, 
courted by the great, tbe learned and the pious, 
treated witb marked respect by the imperial 
family. He had also revisited for the last time 
his own " beautiful France," and there he had 
found himself encircled by affectionate relatives 
and devoted friends, honored by the noble and 
powerful, and admired by all : — and it was after 
all this — all this, which he had left without a 
sigh, that he returned to his beloved Mountain, and 
left it with a sigh, that he could not again bury 
himself in its peaceful obscurity. 

He was consecrated Bishop in the Cathedral 
of St. Louis on the feast of St. Simeon and St. 
Jude, and, accompanied by the venerable Bishop 
of Bardstown and his former pupil, the Bishop of 
Cincinnati, he took possession of his Episcopal see 
on the fifth of November following. At Vincennes 
he found himself in the most trying circumstances. 
He was a stranger, poor, and alone. He saw 
around him little more than the wrecks of the 
Catholic faith and discipline of the original settlers. 
Looking abroad he beheld indeed an immense field 



BISHOP BRUTE. 213 

for labor ; but the ground was almost unbroken. 
Every thing was to be commenced and all was to 
be effected by himself. Destitute as he was of every 
human means of success^ he applied himself with 
courage to his allotted task, and while he freely 
exposed himself to " the heat and burthen of the 
day," he prayed with fervor and confidence to the 
" Lord of the harvest, that he would send laborers 
into his harvest."^ In less than eight months he 
had travelled more than a thousand miles on 
horseback, over roads almost impracticable ; had 
visited every part of his extensive diocese, and was 
as familiar with the minutest circumstances regard- 
ing its missions and those of the West in general, 
as if the whole of his valuable life had been devoted 
to them exclusively. He then proceeded to Eu- 
rope to procure the succors which he needed. 
How he was there received, you have heard ; and 
you may still better judge from the successful issue 
of his visit. More than twenty missionaries ac- 
companied him on his return ; and he obtained 
from the charity of our Catholic brethren in the 

* MattheTV ix. 38. 



214 DISCOUESE ON 

old world considerable resources for establisMng 
schools, building diurcbes, founding an asylum for 
destitute orphans, and celebrating the holy myste- 
ries with becoming dignity.^ His jjrevious residence 
at Yincennes, though brief, had made so favorable 
an impression on the minds of all, that on his re- 

^ As he crossed the Atlantic nine times, and snch occasions al- 
ways elicited new proofs of his characteristic virtues, I shall give 
the words of an eye-witness of his conduct, who accompanied him 
on his last voyage : " Nothing could surpass his kindness and atten- 
tion to all during the voyage from Europe, He had obtained a spe- 
cial permission from his Holiness to celebrate mass on board the 
vessel ; but the passage was so tempestuous that we could rarely 
enjoy that consolation. We had thirty days' continued storm, part 
of the time the helm lashed, dead lights up, and the sea breaking 
tremendously over the ship at every instant. We were nearly all 
very unwell. The good Bishop alone was calm, as when seated in 
his ownlibi-ary, — sharing all the inconveniences of a protracted voy- 
age and bad accommodations, — neglecting himself and attending 
with unwearied solicitude to the wants of every one. Night and 
day was he beside the berths of those whom sickness rendered inca- 
pable of assisting themselves. Even the poor deck passengers (most 
of them Dutch) had a large share of his good offices. Amidst all 
this, he found time to write a great deal, prepared an immense 
quantity of matter for his European correspondence, and held from 
time to time the most interesting and instructive conversations on 
the political and religious state of America, and particularly on the 
field of our future labors. The most minute circumstances re- 
garding the Western missions were familiar to him. His compre- 
hensive mind grasped the whole at a single glance, and his habits 
of analysis, aided by a powerful memory, enabled him to retain all 
that was valuable." 



BISHOP BRUTE. 215 

turn from Europe^ he was greeted by the citizens 
of all denominations with every possible mark of 
esteem and respect. Now commenced a new series 
of labors. There was no station in his diocese 
which he did not visit repeatedly. At home he 
was at once the Bishop, the Pastor of the congre- 
gation, the Professor of Theology, the father of his 
family (for so he always designated his ecclesias- 
tics), the benefactor of the poor, and the affection- 
ate friend of all. In a short time he had opened 
a college, established at his own expense a free 
school, which is attended by from seventy to eighty 
pupils, and founded another for girls, together with 
an orphan asylum, under the superintendence of 
the Sisters of Charity. In order to carry on these 
various schemes of beneficence, and actuated by a 
spirit of humility and self-denial, he submitted to 
many privations, which his declining health could 
ill sustain. The Bishop, Clergy, seminarians and 
scholars of the college occupied the same house, 
took their meals in the same refectory, and in every 
respect constituted but one family. He reserved 
no privileges to himself ; he would have no advan- 



216 DISCOUKSE ON 

tages or comforts whicli lie could not sliare with 
all. His labors were so multifarious and burthen- 
some, that they would be scarcely credible to those 
who did not know his wonderful activity of mind 
and powers of endurance. In addition to the oc- 
cupations I have already mentioned, he taught 
Theology in his seminary, gave lessons in French 
in one of his academies, furnished a large amount 
of historical and antiquarian information to the 
literary societies of Vincennes, wrote twice a month 
to every priest in his diocese, and maintained an 
extensive correspondence with almost every part of 
Europe and America.^ It is but a short time since 
he took possession of his episcopal see. He found 
a single priest and but two or three churches in 
his diocese. He has left twenty-three missionaries 
in it ; and in every tov/n almost, besides many sta- 
tions in country places, a temple has risen or is 
rising up to the honor of the living God. Though 

^ He has been known to return from a day's mission, find thirty 
letters on his table, and answer every one before retiring to rest. 
He made it a rule never to indulge a second sleep the same night ; 
so that if he happened to awake at one or two in the morning, he 
instantly arose, lit his candle, and wrote or studied till daylight. 



BISHOP BRUTE. 217 

his health and strength, bending at last under the 
excessive toils and self-denials which all his life 
long he imposed on himself, were fast declining, he 
visited again and again every part of this sparsely- 
settled portion of the West. Wherever might be 
found a handful of the faithful, to whom he could 
break the bread of life, thither his zeal urged him 
to repair, and thither he would go alone, on horse- 
back, in every kind of weather, a lonely wanderer 
through the solitude of vast prairies or deep and 
gloomy forests, silently communing with his God, 
and supported by the consciousness that he was 
toiling and suffering for the love of his Kedeemer 
and the everlasting welfare of his fellow-men. 
Broken down by his malady, — a wasting consump- 
tion, — and pronounced incurable, he still proceeded 
on these errands of mercy, " going about," like his 
divine Master, " doing good to all.'' Wherever he 
went, he engaged in all the duties of an ordinary 
pastor. To assist and console the poor laborers on 
the public works, he visited them in person, heard 
their confessions, preached and said mass in their 
miserable dwellings, administered the sacraments, 



218 DISCOURSE ON 

and prepared the dying for tlie awful passage to 
eternity. Difficulties th-at would have disheart- 
ened, and obstacles which might have been call- 
ed insurmountable, but animated his zeal and 
charity. Having commenced a journey of four 
hundred miles, in such a state of bodily suffering 
that he could not sit upright on his horse, he nev- 
ertheless completed it, without the intermission of 
a single day. Shortly before his death, he left 
Yincennes to visit a distant mission, which he had 
already visited thrice within the year ; and though 
so weak and attenuated that he could scarcely sup- 
port his tottering frame, in the absence of the pas- 
tor he answered three distant sick calls on the same 
day ; and almost dying, administered the consola- 
tions of religion to those who appeared no nearer 
mortal dissolution than himself. His desire was, 
"to spend and be spent himself for souls,"' ^ "that 
he might gain them to Christ ; "' and his motto 
seemed to be those beautiful words of St. Paul, 
" I do not count myself to have apprehended " — 
that is, to have reached the goal — " but one thing 

^ 2 Cor. xii. 15. 



BISHOP BRUTE. 219 

I do ; forgetting the things whicli are behind, and 
stretching myself forth to those which are before, 
I pursue towards the mark for the prize of the 
supernal vocation of God in Christ Jesus."^ Thus, 
my brethren, from the beginning to the end of his 
life, do we find in him the words of my text ful- 
filled. " Wisdom conducted the just man through 
the right ways, and showed him the kingdom of 
God, and gave him the knowledge of holy things ; 
made him honorable in his labors and accomplished 
his labors/' The merits of such a man cannot be 
summed up in a few words. It is only by borrow- 
ing the language of sacred inspiration, that we 
can represent his character in worthy colors. I 
would therefore liken him to " Simon, the high 
priest," " who took care of his nation," and " ob- 
tained glory in his conversation with the people," 
and apply to him the splendid eulogy which we 
read of that great man in the fiftieth chapter of 
Ecclesiasticus : 

" He shone in his days, as the morning star in 
the midst of a cloud ; and as the moon at the full, 

' PhiUp. iii. 13, 14. 



220 DISCOURSE ON 

and as the sun when it shineth, so did he shine in 
the temple of God. And as the rainbow giving 
light in the bright clouds, and as the flower of 
roses in the days of the spring ; and as the lilies 
that are on the brink of the water ; and as the 
sweet-smelling frankincense in the time of sum- 
mer ; and as a bright fire and frankincense burn- 
ing in the fire ; as a massy vessel of gold adorned 
with every precious stone ; as an olive-tree budding 
forth, and a cypress-tree rearing itself on high ; 
when he put on the robe of glory and was clothed 
with the perfection of power. When he went up 
to the holy altar he honored the vesture of holi- 
ness ; and when he took the portions out of the 
hands of the priests, he himself stood by the altar. 
And about him was the ring of his brethren ; and 
as the cedar planted on Mount Libanus, and as 
branches of palm-trees, they stood round about 
him, and all the sons of Aaron in their glory. 
* * -::j m j^Yid finishing his service on the altar to 
honor the offering of the most High King, he 
stretched forth his hand to make a libation, and 
offered of the blood of the grape. * '** * * Then 



BISHOP BRUTE. 221 

all the people together made haste^ and fell down 
to the earth upon their faces to adore the Lord 
their God, and to pray to the Almighty God the 
most High. * * ''*' * Then coming down, he 
lifted up his hands over all the congregation of the 
children of Israel, to give glory to God with his 
lips, and to glory in his name."^ 

Death, which could be no unwelcome visitor 
to one whose thoughts, hopes and affections all 
centred in a better world, found him full-handed 
of good works, and longing only " to be dissolved 
and to be with Christ."^ Invincibly patient and 
resigned under the severest suffering, full of ten- 
der piety, calm, collected, and brightly exhibiting 
his characteristic virtues to the last, he set a beau- 
tiful example of the manner in which a Christian 
should prepare himself to run his final race, and 
win the crown of a glorious immortality. As 
his strength diminished, his devotion increased. 
He sought no alleviation for his sufferings : on 
the contrary, he was eager still to labor and en- 
dure, in the twofold view of doing good to others 

' Ecclesiasticus c. 50. "" Phil. i. 23. 



222 DISCOURSE ON 

and resembling more his crucified Saviour. When 
unable to walk or stand, he would at least sit up 
and write to any whom he could hope to benefit 
by his correspondence ; and to those around him 
he would speak on pious subjects, such as the love 
of God, conformity to his holy will, or devotion 
to the Blessed Virgin, with the unction of a saint 
and the ardor of a seraph. But six hours before 
his death he wrote with his own hand, and not 
without much difficulty and pain, several moving 
letters to persons who had unfortunately aban- 
doned the practice of their faith, and to whom he 
wished to make this dying appeal in behalf of 
their souls, while the portals of Eternity were 
closing upon him. These last precious days of 
his hfe were thus entirely taken up in works of 
charity, in instructing, edifying, and consoling 
those who were with him, and in intimate and af- 
fectionate communion with his God, whom he 
hoped soon '^to see face to face," and to love and 
enjoy forever. He preferred often to be left alone, 
that he might the more freely indulge his pious 
feelings, and for this end he would allow no one to 



BISHOP BKUTE. 223 

watcli by him at night, until his mortal agony had 
begun. When his friends affectionately sought 
to know what they could do to relieve his suffer- 
ings, he would answer them by pointing out some 
passage of sacred Scripture or chapter of the 
Following of Christ, which he desired them to 
read to him, or by asking them to say some 
prayers for his happy death. No agonies of pain 
could extort from him a single expression of dis- 
tress. " The will of God be done " — was the 
constant language of his lips, as it was the abid- 
ing sentiment of his heart. When preparing to 
receive the holy Yiaticum, he wrote to us in the 
true spirit of saintly humility, requesting the 
prayers of our Seminary and of the Sisterhood, 
and begging pardon for whatever offence or bad 
example he had ever given to any one at either 
institution. A few days before his dissolution, 
the strength of his naturally vigorous constitution 
rallied for a time, and his physician promised him 
at least a temporary recovery : he told the physi- 
cian he was mistaken, and, whether he knew it 
supernaturally or otherwise, named the exact time 



224 DISCOURSE ON 

of his approacliing departure. He gave, himself, 
the orders for preparing his grave, and as calmly 
directed the mode of sepulture and proper rites to 
be observed, as if he was discharging an ordinary 
duty. On the morning of the day before his 
death, he remarked to the clergyman, who at- 
tended him with unwearied solicitude and affec- 
tion : '* My dear child, I have the whole day yet 
to stay with you — to-morrow, with God \" To 
another pious friend he used these simple but ex- 
pressive words ; '^ I am going home." Heaven 
was indeed his Jiome; he had always so regarded 
it : there was his treasure ; his heart was there ; 
he had ever longed to be with God and ^'see him 
as he is ; " and now the door of his Father's house 
was opening to him, and angels were on the wing 
to meet his departing spirit and conduct it to 
its place of rest. He was happy therefore amid 
the pangs and terrors of death ; he was but going 
home. After having received the last sacraments, 
he directed the departing prayers to be recited, 
which he answered devoutly and fervently until 
the last, and, then on the morning of the 26th of 



BISHOP BRUTE. 225 

June, at half-past one o'clock, lie calmly and 
sweetly surrendered his soul into the hands of his 
Creator. Oh, how " precious in the sight of the 
Lord is the death of his saints!"^ How dif- 
ferent from the last moments of the poor deluded 
worldling — of the sinner tremhling on the confines 
of his life, which he is loth to quit, and of eter 
nity, which he justly dreads to enter. But hlessed 
are the dead who die in the Lord. From hence- 
forth now, saith the Spirit, that they may rest 
from their labors ; for their works follow them.^ 

His death was deplored as a general calamity. 
He was especially lamented by the poor, the 
widow and orphan. The people of Yincennes felt 
that they had lost a public benefactor. His own 
flock, both clergy and laity, bewailed, as they 
well might, the death of such a pastor. All with 
one accord mourned for the scholar, the philanthro- 
pist and the saint. Crowds of persons of every 
rank, and of all denominations, visited his corpse, 
and assisted at the ceremonies of his burial. The 
Mayor and civil authorities, and learned societies 

^ Ps. cxv. ^ Apoc. xiv. 13. 



226 DISCOUKSE ON 

of Yincennes passed resolutions to attend his fune- 
ral. The whole population poured forth to accom- 
pany in solemn silence his honored remains to their 
last resting-place on earth. 

Transcendent virtue never dies. The grave 
but gives it sacredness, and invests it with a 
brighter halo. The true Christian character ac- 
quires beauty from the touch of death. We see 
new charms and feel an interest surpassing what 
we felt before. We would wish to know the steps 
by which such a man became all that he was. I 
have very imperfectly sketched the history of Mr. 
Brute's life ; the steps or process by which he 
reached so high an eminence of holiness can, I 
think, be very briefly stated. He was faithful 
through life to every duty, obedient to every inti- 
mation of the divine will, careful to husband and 
make the best use of every grace which he re- 
ceived. Had it been otherwise — had he yielded 
to the temptations which encompassed his youth, 
or neglected his golden opportunities of intellec- 
tual, moral, and religious improvement, or failed 



BISHOP BKUTE. 227 

to "stir up the grace which was in him/'' 
how different would have been his lot and that of 
innumerable souls for whose salvation he was a 
chosen instrument in the hands of God ! How 
many, as nobly gifted as he, and destined to a ca- 
reer of equal beneficence, have fallen, sadly fallen 
from their high estate, " to walk in the counsel 
of the ungodly, to stand in the way of sinners, 
and sit in the chair of pestilence." But he was 
that " blessed man, whose delight is in the law of 
God; who meditates on that holy law both day 
and night, and who is like a tree planted by the 
running waters, which keeps its leaf verdant, and 
brings forth its fruit in due season ; all whatso- 
ever he doeth prospers."^ It was thus, my breth- 
ren — ^for hallowed words alone can describe the 
growth of such a character — it was thus that he 
became " a burning and shining light " in the 
Church of God, a living evidence of the beauty, 
holiness, and truth of our religion. I speak re- 
flectingly; for I know that his example brought 
many, who wandered they knew not where, into 

' 2 Tim. i. 6. "" Ps. i. 



228 DISCOURSE ON 

tlie fold of Catholic unity. By its fruits in him 
they knew his religion; for his virtues were the 
genuine offspring of his faith. He but practised 
what he believed and taught. As a Xavier, a 
Vincent of Paul, a Fenelon, or a Cheverus, he 
lived up to the standard of his creed, and his 
actions but embodied its spirit. Kor, my breth- 
ren, did his faith rest on insufficient grounds. He 
had studied the sacred Scriptures as few men have 
ever studied them. He had the leisure, the knowl- 
edge, the intellectual habits, the ardor of inves- 
tigation necessary to succeed in such a study. 
There was no day on which he did not peruse and 
revolve in mind a considerable portion of the sa- 
cred volume. He had read it in the languages of 
the original text as well as in the modern versions. 
It was a favorite occupation, a constant delight. 
And he brought to this study the greatest purity 
and singleness of mind, together with an un- 
usual docility of heart, and the spirit of fervent 
prayer. You, who knew him, can attest this; 
his whole life is the evidence of it. With the 
history of religion he was not less familiar. 



BISHOP BRUTE. 229 

Day and night, for nearly forty years, this was 
the subject of his researches and meditations. 
He was always surrounded by the needful docu- 
ments ; and the vast libraries of European capitals 
had opened their treasures to his investigations. 
If a thorough knowledge of ancient monuments 
and records could aught avail in the search for 
truth, he did not want this means of finding it. 
Nor was he by any means a stranger to the argu- 
ments of those who reject the doctrines which he 
held. There is no system of religious opinions 
with the writings of whose ablest defenders he was 
not conversant. More than once have I known 
him both to surprise and enlighten the zealous sec- 
tary, by opening before him the works of the 
founder of his religious denomination, or by point- 
ing out in his confession of faith some assertion 
which had before escaped his attention. If then 
the belief of a Catholic could rest on any other 
foundation than the divine authority duly exhibit- 
ed ; if it could be based on individual opinion, most 
carefully and maturely formed by exercising facul- 
ties of mind of the highest order on all the evi- 



230 DISCOUESE ON 

dence that belongs to the subject ; it 'migbt be 
said of Mr. Brute's convictions that such was their 
foundation. But faith is the gift of God. Ke 
vealed truth is a sacred deposit which its heavenly 
author has committed to the custody of his Church, 
having sealed it with marks of divinity, and prom- 
ised to guard it with a persevering power, against 
which " the gates of Hell shall never prevail."^ 
The result therefore of Mr. Brute's varied reading 
and immense researches was not the formation of 
any peculiar system of opinions ; it was not in- 
difference or scepticism ; it was not to set his 
mind adrift on the ocean of uncertainty, liable " to 
be tossed to and fro by every wind of doctrine.''^ 
But it was a firm and unshaken belief in the di- 
vine revelation, the perfect submission of his mind 
to the truths brought down from Heaven by the 
Son of God and preached by his Apostles, and a 
devoted attachment to the authority of the Church 
which has preserved and transmitted them, and 
which for this very purpose God himself built on 
the rock, and armed with his own infallibility, 

^ Matth. xvi. 18. ^ Ephes. iv. 14. 



BISHOP BRUTE. 231 

while lie commissioned its pastors to teach, by his 
authority, and with his promise of divine assist- 
ance, all nations to the consummation of ages.* 
Hence, when he became himself a pastor of the 
Church, lie taught " as one having authority ; " 
not as one broaching new opinions, but as the 
herald of immutable truth. In the defence of his 
faith he would cheerfully have encountered mar- 
tyrdom. To communicate its blessings to his fel- 
low-men, he left his country, friends, and family, 
exerted all his energies for more than thirty years, 
courted innumerable hardships and privations, ex- 
hausted his strength, and ultimately sacrificed his 
life * for he died, as you have seen, a victim to his 
heroic charity. 

He has departed ; but his good works remain : 
he yet lives in the fruits of his labors : his services 
to religion in this country can never be forgotten. 
Bishop Brute is no more ; but his virtues have 
survived : his bright example shines steadily be- 
fore your view and claims your imitation. If you 
truly revere his memory, follow that example ; if 

* Matth. xxviii. 19, 20. 



232 DISCOURSE ON 

you would honor his virtues, practise them your- 
selves ; if you feel gratitude for his zeal and charity, 
forget not his lessons ; despise not the exhorta- 
tions and entreaties which he so often addressed 
to you. If you would prove to him that gratitude, 
pray for him : even he may need your prayers ; 
and should he not, your charity will not go unre- 
warded. But, my beloved brethren, be careful to 
draw from the consideration of his life the instruc- 
tion it is calculated to convey. Learn from him 
how to estimate at its true value the " supernal 
prize for which we run/' Learn from him that 
they who are in earnest about the salvation of their 
souls do not lead an idle, tepid or effeminate, much 
less a vicious life. Learn from him what kind of 
violence the Kingdom of Heaven suffers, and who 
are the " violent that bear it away."' ^ Learn from 
him " to deny yourselves, and take up your cross 
and follow " your divine leader. Learn from his 
example to love God above all things with your 
whole heart and mind and strength, and your 
neighbor as yourself ; to be zealous for every good 

»Matth. xi. 12. 



BISHOP BEUTE. 233 

work, merciful to the poor, charitable to all, and 
to seek your own sanctification in all things, by 
doing every thing for the sake of God, and in con- 
formity to his holy will. It is thus, my brethren, 
we are admonished by inspired wisdom to " re- 
member our prelates who have spoken to us the 
word of God ; and, considering the end of their 
conversation, to imitate their faith : "^ and the 
same inspired wisdom has assured us that he who 
" feeds the flock of Christ" entrusted to him, 
" and takes good care thereof, not by constraint, 
but willingly according to God : not for the sake 
of filthy lucre, but voluntarily ; not as domineer- 
ing over the clergy, but being made a pattern of 
the flock from the heart ; when the Prince of pas- 
tors shall appear, shall receive a never-fading 
crown of glory." * 

.^ ^ Heb. xiii. 7. ' 1 Pet. v. 2, 3, 4. 

10* V 



DISCOURSE ON THE 



|ligl]t 'gtkxt^di |0l]ii itttois, |. §. 



BY THE REV. JOHN McCAFFREY, D. D. 



DISCOURSE 

ON THE RT. EEVEEEND JOHN DUBOIS, D. D., BISHOP OF NEW 
YOEK, FOUNDER OF MOUNT ST. MART'S, AND SUPERIOR OF 
ST. JOSEPH'S, PRONOUNCED IN MOUNT ST. MARY^S CHURCH, 
JANUARY 24, 1S43, ON THE OCCASION OF A SOLEMN SERVICE 
FOR THE REPOSE 'OF HIS SOUL, BY REV. JOHN McCAF- 
FEEY. D. D., PRESIDENT OF MOUNT ST. MARY'S COLLEGE. 

Blessed is the man who hath not walked in the counsel of the 
ungodly, nor stood in the way of sinners, nor sat in the chair of 
pestilence : But his will is in the law of the Lord, and on his law 
shall he meditate day and night. And he shall be like a tree 
planted near the running waters, which shall bring forth its fruit in 
due season. And his leaf shall not fall off; and all, whatsoever he 
shall do, shall prosper. — Ps. i. 1, 2, 3. 

It is net, my brethren, a temporal prosperity 
tliat is promised to those who avoid the ways of 
sinners, and meditate continually on the law of 
God. All things which they do shall indeed pros- 
per, but in that higher sense, in which the inspired 
Apostle assures us that, "for those who love God, 
all things work together unto good."^ The lot of 
the truly religious man may be obscurity and af- 

^Rom. viii. 28. 



238 DISCOURSE ON 

fliction ; it may be disappointment in all Ms 
earthly hopes — still " the light of God's counte- 
nance shines upon him ; " he is advancing in the 
path of Christian perfection ; his soul abounds in 
spiritual riches, and growing daily in favor with 
his Heavenly Father, is daily more and more 
adorned with heavenly graces. Truly, therefore, 
is he "like a tree planted near the running 
waters," which hides its abundant fruit beneath 
its luxuriant foliage. 

But, my brethren, there is a kind of temporal 
prosperity which the greatest saints have prized 
and coveted, and which we all regard as a mark of 
divine approbation. I mean success in great un- 
dertakings begun for God's sake alone, and carried 
on through purest zeal for his glory, amidst con- 
tinual sacrifices and self-denials, in the spirit of 
humble piety and incessant prayer. The Xaviers, 
the Ignatii, the Vincents of Paul, in their stupen- 
dous efforts to gain souls to Christ and benefit 
mankind, were animated by a hope that the divine 
blessing would prosper all their labors. The Apos- 
tles, bearing the triumphant standard of Christi- 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 239 

anity from land to land, did not fail to sing canti- 
cles of victory to their heavenly leader, and as, 
when they were scourged hy the Jews, " they re- 
joiced that they were accounted worthy to suffer 
reproach for the name of Jesus,'' ^ so, when thou- 
sands were converted hy their preaching, they gave 
thanks to God, who crowned their ministry with 
such success. This kind of prosperity is given to 
none but the chosen servants of God. Our Divine 
Kedeemer intimates it when he says to the twelve, 
" I have chosen you, and have appointed you, that 
you should go and should bring forth fruit, and 
that your fruit should remain."^ 

Now, my brethren, called together by a com- 
mon feeling of gratitude towards a common bene- 
factor, lift up your eyes, look round about, and tell 
me what you see ! what but monuments of the 
pure religious zeal of Bishop Dubois, clearly 
marked with the seal of divine benediction ? 
Who reared to the honor of Almighty God the 
temple in which you are assembled ? Who set it 
beautifully on the Mountain's brow, to crown our 

'Acts V. 41. Vohnxv. 16. 



240 DISCOUESE ON 

sacred hill as with a diadem of glory ? From this 
lofty height, enjoying a magnificent prospect, 
which expands and elevates the soul, — with half 
of Maryland stretched before you, and a large part 
of Pennsylvania, and something of Virginia too, — 
tell me, who has done most for the welfe,re, above 
all, the spiritual welfare of those who have pitched 
their tents upon the mountain's side, or in its fer- 
tile valleys, or on the plain below ? Who adorned 
our neighborhood with that noble collegiate edi- 
fice 1 Who raised up, in the tangled forest, that 
abode of science and letters ? Who dedicated to 
the muses that crystal spring, gushing in cool, de- 
licious waves from the rock? Who taught the 
wilderness to bloom as a garden, and converted the 
rude forest into a paradise, in which study and 
piety might, like twin angels, walk hand in hand, 
and from which it might be hoped that the tempt- 
ing serpent of worldly dissipation would be effec- 
tually excluded ? Who established that nursery 
of the American Church, from which so many 
Priests and Bishops have gone forth, — pastors ac- 
cording to God^s own heart, — men whose talents^ 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 241 

learning, and piety have reflected lustre on their 
Alma Mater, and rendered Mount St. Mary's '^ a 
bright and venerable name ? " Who gave a still 
more enviable celebrity to St. Joseph'^B Valley, and, 
like the Prophet smiting the rock at Horeb, caused 
a perennial fountain of charity to gush forth, that 
the poor orphan might not, for want of the well- 
springs of religious benevolence, perish of thirst in 
the arid desert of human society ? Who gave 
mothers to the motherless, tender nurses to the 
destitute sick, meek-eyed, soft-toned sisters to 
calm the raving maniac, and govern by gentleness 
and sweet affection the darkened being whom rea- 
son has ceased to rule ? Who prepared and formed 
those Christian heroines, ready at any moment to 
fly to the seat of contagion, there to hover, like 
guardian angels, around the suffering and dying, — 
soothing every sorrow, relieving every pain, inspir- 
ing confidence by their calm intrepidity, inspiring 
piety by their beautiful example, inspiring the 
guilty soul with contrition and the despairing with 
hopes of mercy, and breathing their own faith, and 
charityj and humble trust, into the spirit trem- 



242 DISCOURSE ON 

blmg,oii the verge of eternity ? Who, in a word, 
nurtured the institution of the Sisters of Charity 
from helpless infancy up to a strong and flourishing 
maturity ? What one man, I ask, has in this our 
day and in our country, done most for the good of 
souls, most for the relief of human misery, most 
for the benefit of society ? You are all ready 
with one voice to answer : — It is Bishop Dubois, 
the father of St. Joseph's — ^the founder of Mount 
St. Mary's. Yes, he was that " blessed man "of 
whom the psalmist speaks. He was " like the 
tree, planted by the running waters, and bringing 
forth fruit in due season." All things, whatsoever 
he did, were fertilized by the dews of Heaven, 
were watered from the fountains of divine grace, 
and prospered under the blessing of the Most 
High God. 

To us particularly, my brethren, his religious 
zeal was a fountain of blessings ; and now that he 
hath gone to rest in the bosom of his Lord, like 
pious children, who have lost a beloved and ven- 
erated father, let us seek consolation in the re- 
membrance of his virtues, and strengthen all our 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 243 

good resolutions by the argument of his edifying 
example. 

The ways of God are indeed mysterious, and 
admirable are the designs of his mercy, and beau- 
tiful it is to trace, where light is given us to do 
so, their progress and development. A foreigner, 
flung by the tempest of an impious and bloody 
revolution on our hospitable shores, boldly under- 
takes, with none of the ordinary means, and no 
human prospect of success, and happily achieves, 
the most important works of benevolence : a friend- 
less stranger, flying from the wrath of his brethren 
beyond the Atlantic, adopting customs and insti- 
tutions quite new and strange, and lisping a lan- 
guage unknown to his youth, becomes the bene- 
factor of the country which adopts him, as Joseph, 
sold into captivity, a sojourner in the land of 
Cham, received from Egypt's sons the glorious 
name of " Saviour." In studying the history of 
the good man whose example it is my duty to 
unfold to you, I behold indeed a chosen instrument 
of Divine Providence ; but I also behold the noble 
portrait, which the royal psalmist has drawn with 



244 DISCOURSE ON 

a skilful hand J of him who is truly pious and there- 
fore truly blessed ; one who flies the company of 
sinners, who gives all his affections to the law of 
God, and meditates on it both day and night, that, 
knowing his heavenly Father's will, he may more 
and more perfectly accomplish it ; one who, in re- 
ward for this fidelity of mind and heart in the 
midst of " an unbelieving and perverse genera- 
tion," is inspired with high resolves and great de- 
signs, is endowed with vigor, fortitude, and perse- 
verance to execute them, and favored with mani- 
fest signs of divine protection in the signal success 
of his undertakings. 

Mr. Dubois was born in Paris, on the 24th day 
of August, in the year 1764. His parents were 
respectable, and appear to have been in easy cir- 
cumstances. They knew that " it is good for a 
man to have borne the yoke from his youth ;"^ 
they knew, that if you train up a young man in 
the way in which he should walk, ^' even when he 
is old, he will not depart from it.'' ^ They were, 
therefore, or rather his prudent mother (for he lost 

^ Lament, iii. 27. "^ Prov. xxii. 6. 



BISHOP DUBOIS. ' 245 

his father when very young) was especially careful 
to implant in his tender breast the seeds of every 
virtue. From the character of the man we learn 
the principles instilled into the soul of the child. 
He was educated at the college of Louis le Grand ; 
a college which has given to France so many of 
her most illustrious sons, and which contributed to 
form the character of him who longest remained 
amongst us, as a grand and beautiful specimen of 
that august Assembly which decreed our national 
independence.^ Among his preceptors were the 
famous poet, the Abbe Delille, and the Abbe Pray- 
art, author of the life of Decalogue. The memory 
of that saintly youth, whose example, faithfully 

* Of the interesting and edifying incidents of his collegiate life, 
still remembered by those who enjoyed his friendship and heard 
them from his lips, I shall give but one. He was fond, when a boy, 
of relating anecdotes to his fellow-students, and frequently embel- 
lished facts with the fictions of imagination. But these deviations 
from truth afterwards troubled his conscience, and he was advised 
by his Confessor to punish himself by retracting every false asser- 
tion, the moment he perceived that he had uttered it. An occasion 
was not long wanting, and he was resolute enough for the heroic 
task of self-condemnation. Yet such was the agony of feeling in- 
duced by the struggle between pride and principle, that he fainted 
the moment after he had made the humiliating avowal. From that 
time forth he was scrupulously exact in adhering to the truth in the 
most trivial, as well as the most important matters. 



246 DISCOURSE ON 

pictured in this little Yolume, has led so many 
students to give to God the flower of their days, 
was then so reverenced and cherished, that the 
greatest mark of confidence and affection which 
the Directors of the college could bestow on a de- 
serving pupil, was to give him, at the opening of 
studies, the place which Decalogue had occupied. 
This honor was conferred on the young Dubois, 
and so highly appreciated by him, that even in 
old age, when his silvery locks gave dignity to all 
his words, he could not mention it without tears of 
joy and gratitude. In the examples of his profes- 
sors and of many among his fellow-students, he 
found encouragement to the practice of every vir- 
tue ; yet in the same school, and on the same 
forms with this pious youth, were some who were 
soon to reach a bad pre-eminence, and act a con- 
spicuous part in the bloody tragedy which his 
country was preparing to exhibit to the astonished 
and affrighted world. There, side by side, you 
might have seen John Dubois and Camille Des 
Moulins, the frantic instigator of the savage and 
ferocious mobs of Paris ! or, stranger still, the 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 247 

meek, benevolent founder of Mt. St. Mary's and 
protector of St. Joseph's^ in contact witli the most 
execrable monster tbat France gave birth to even 
in the wild throes of her guilty revolution — the 
bloodthirsty Kobespierre ! " I shall never for- 
get," Mr. Dubois was wont to say to his collegiate 
pupils, " I shall never forget the looks and man- 
ners of him who afterwards proved such a monster 
of ferocity. He was unsocial, solitary, gloomy ; 
his head was restless, his eyes wandering, and he 
was a great tyrant towards his younger and weaker 
companions. I could literally apply to him," added 
this good old President, " the account which St. 
Gregory Nazianzen gives of his fellow-student at 
Athens, Julian the apostate. We might even 
then have exclaimed with this saint, ^ What 
a monster our country is bringing up in this 
youth ! ' " Between such fellow-students there 
could be no community of feeling. The one 
" walked in the counsel of the ungodly, and stood 
in the way of sinners, and sat in the chair of pes- 
tilence ; " the other centred his will in the law of 
God, and made it his delight to learn and keep 



248 DISCOUKSE ON 

its precepts and imbibe its spirit. The one became 
the bloody scourge of his country; the other, the 
benefactor of ours. The one spoke the language 
of philosophy and philanthropy, and then filled 
France with widows and orphans ; the other 
preached the gospel of charity, and dried the 
widows' tears and gave mothers to the orphans. 
The instrument and emblem of the one was the 
guillotine ; of the other, the Cross of Christ. 

Of Mr. Dubois's success in his collegiate studies, 
I know little more than that he took the prize in 
Latin poetry, and among many useful acquisitions, 
made himself thoroughly acquainted with the noble 
Roman language, which he afterwards wrote with 
ease and elegance. His parents had destined him 
for the army; but his Father in Heaven called 
him to a more honorable service and a better war- 
fare. Listening to the voice which bade him 
" deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow 
his Eedeemer,"^ he resolved to consecrate himself 
entirely to God, and entered on his ecclesiastical 
studies in the seminary of St. Magloire, under the 

*Matth. xvi. 24. 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 249 

direction of the Oratorians. Here Ms time was 
altogether devoted to the acquisition of that knowl- 
edge and the formation of those habits, which, hke 
the columns of a majestic temple, are at once the 
supports and ornaments of the priestly character. 
From this time forth, his delight was wholly in the 
law of God, and on it he meditated day and night. 
In this calm retreat he laid the soHd foundations 
of that beautiful edifice of Christian perfection, 
which all his life long it was his care to complete 
and adorn. Here he learned to regard himself as. 
" a miserable sinner,'' the title by which he loved 
to characterize himself in his confidential commu- 
nications with his pious friends. Here he acquired 
that ardent zeal and patient self-denial, which 
made him ever afterwards willing " to spend and 
be spent for souls, that he might gain them to 
Christ."^ Here he learned to live entirely by faith, 
that firm, unwavering faith which does not deign 
to watch the flitting shadows of this life, but stead- 
ily contemplates those things which, though invis- 
ible to the eye of flesh, are alone substantial and 

»2 Cor. xii. 15. 

11 



250 DISCOURSE ON 

eternal.* Here piety grew up and. flourislied in 
his soulj and his heart was turned entirely to God, 
and received all the sweet influences of divine 
grace, as the flower opens its bosom to the morning 
sun and catches the nurturing dews of Heaven. 
He found kindred spirits among his brother Sem- 
inarians, and with several of them contracted an 
intimate and lasting friendship ; with two par- 
ticularly, whom he esteemed and loved until they 
were called away before hinl to receive the crown 
of their labors — the Abbe McCarthy, who after the 
revolution became the first pulpit orator of France, 
whose elo(][uence in recommending virtue was sur- 
passed only by his fidelity in practising it, whose 
fame is a bright gem even in the diadem of the 
illustrious Society of Jesus ; and Cardinal Chev- 
erus, the most beloved of pastors, the most ami- 
able of men, who in Boston wrung the highest 
praise from bigotry itself. 

Ordained priest before the canonical age, by a 
dispensation, on the 22d of September, in the year 
1787, he first exercised the boly ministry in the 

^ 2 Cor. iv. 18. 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 251 

parish of St. Sulpice, in his native city, and was 
one of the chaplains of a vast establishment in the 
Kue de Seve, in which the Sisters of Charity had 
the care of a large number of insane patients and 
destitute orphans. But the revolution had be- 
gun, and the clergy were among its first victims. 
The Archbishop of Paris, whose esteem and con- 
fidence were justly given to the young priest, 
had fled to Germany for shelter from the storm. 
The constitutional oaths, which could not be taken 
in conscience, were tendered and refused, and the 
firm independence of Mr. Dubois had rendered him 
especially obnoxious to the impious miscreants, who 
were grasping with bloody hands the powers of gov- 
ernment. Like the great body of his clerical breth- 
ren, he preferred exile or death itself to any criminal 
compliance. Acquainted with the family of La 
Fayette, he obtained from him, not only a pass- 
port, but also letters of introduction to some of 
the leading men of the United Stated, and quit- 
ting. Paris in disguise in May, 1791, he made his 
escape to Havre, accompanied by a trusty servant, 
and landed at Norfolk, in Virginia, in the follow- 



252 DISCOURSE ON 

ing July. Bishop Carroll welcomed the faithful 
exile, and authorize him to exercise the functions 
of his holy ministry, first at Norfolk and after- 
wards at Kichmond. Eecommended by General 
La Fayette to the Kandolphs, Lees and Beverleys, 
to James Monroe and Patrick Henry, he received 
the kindest and most respectful attentions from 
these distinguished statesmen and their numerous 
friends, and for want of a Catholic - chapel, said 
mass in the Capitol, and there administered the 
sacraments to the few scattered Catholics, who 
could avail themselves of his ministry. This liber- 
ality, which even to the present day will appear 
astonishing to some, is still more surprising, when 
it is remembered that his immediate predecessor 
in the pastorship of Frederick, Father Frambach, 
was obliged to disguise himself, when he visited 
the Catholics of Virginia, was in imminent danger 
the whole time, commonly on such occasions slept 
in the stable beside the beast that he rode, and 
once at least was so hotly pursued, that, had it 
not been for the fleetness of his horse, he would 
have been overtaken and killed before he reached 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 253 

the Potomac and found safety on tlie Maryland 
shore. Mr. Dubois supported himself by teaching 
French, while be was studying and making him- 
self familiar with English ; and he used to ac- 
knowledge himself indebted to the eloquent Pat- 
rick Henry for many friendly lessons in our 
language. Fully prepared for taking an active 
part in the duties of an American missionary, he 
was in 1794 called by Bishop Carroll to Frederick 
in this State, from which Father Frambach had 
retired on account of his great age and infirmities. 
In this town he found but few Catholics : there 
were some scattered through Montgomery county ; 
— a few on the Maryland tract, including the 
family of Governor Lee, a recent convert to our 
holy faith, — a handful in this neighborhood, con- 
sisting of the famihes of its original settlers, and a 
few more in the village of Emmittsburg. Hagers- 
town required occasional attendance, and both 
Martinsburg and Winchester in Yirginia were in- 
cluded in his regular missionary visits. In a word, 
he was pastor of all Western Maryland and Vir- 
ginia, and for some time the only Catholic priest 



254 DISCOURSE ON 

between the city of Baltimore and the city of St. 
Louis. Some among my present hearers can yet 
remember how the scattered members of his wide- 
spread flock from distances of twenty, forty, even 
sixty miles, came into Frederick on foot, on horse- 
back, or in rustic wagons, on the eve of the Christ- 
mas or Easter solemnities, to have the happiness 
of assisting at the holy sacrifice and participating 
in the divine mysteries, celebrated with so much 
primitive simplicity and fervent piety in an upper 
room of their pastor's humble residence. 

His labors for the salvation of souls were at 
this period immense. He had an iron constitution 
of body, and no man was ever more remarkable for 
energetic, persevering, indomitable resolution. He 
allowed himself no idle moments, — no respite from 
toil or relaxation after fatigue ; — and it seemed to 
be his constant determination to compensate by 
his own personal exertions for all the disadvan- 
tages under which the faithful, depending on his 
spiritual ministration, then labored. He was in- 
cessantly engaged in passing from station to sta- 
tion, hearing confessions, preaching the word of 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 255 

God, celebrating the divine mysteries, visiting the 
sick, comforting the afflicted, helping the distressed, 
edifying all by his own good example, and infusing 
into the hearts of all a sincere love of " whatsoever 
things are true, whatsoever things are modest, 
whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are 
holy, whatsoever things are amiable, whatsoever 
things are of good repute/' ^ Not content with 
his sermons and other instructions on Sundays and 
festivals, during the week he visited the retired 
farm-house, immediately summoned the children 
and servants, to his presence, heard them repeat 
their catechism and recite their prayers, explained 
the mysteries of faith and their Christian duties in 
such simple and familiar manner as suited their 
capacity, gave some mark of approbation to those 
who answered best, some gentle reproof most 
sweetly administered and mixed with much en- 
couragement to the negligent, and a kind word 
and amiable look to all. By his extraordinary at- 
tention to the children he was sure to win the 
hearts of the parents. He thought the catechizing 

^Phnip. iv. 8. 



256 DISCOURSE ON 

of the young a more important matter than preach- 
ing to the grown, and he was afterwards most 
careful to impress this maxim on the ecclesiastics 
whom he trained up to the duties of the holy min- 
istry, so many of whom have since proved its cor- 
rectness and experienced its hlessed results. Highly 
systematic in his lahors, he regarded punctuality 
to his engagements as a duty paramount to every 
personal consideration. '^ The shepherd," he used 
to say, " must never disappoint his flock ; it 
would cause their dispersion and ruin if he did." 
Hence, when he had once made an appoint- 
ment, no matter what difficulties intervened, no 
matter how inclement the weather, how long 
the journey or how bad the roads, when the 
appointed hour came, Mr. Dubois was there. 
On one occasion he had just arrived at Em- 
mittsburg much fatigued on a Saturday after- 
noon, and was going to the confessional, when 
a distant sick-call came. Before leaving Em- 
mittsburg, he directed the usual preparations 
to be made for the celebration of mass on 
Sunday, saying that he would be back in time. 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 257^ 

He returned to Frederick, and tlience proceeded 
to Montgomery county ; administered the conso- 
lations of religion to tlie dying person, and, after 
a journey of nearly fifty miles, after twice swim- 
ming his horse across the Monocacy, — the last 
time at the risk of his life, — for wearied nature 
caught a snatch of sleep while the noble animal 
was breasting the angry stream, — he was again in 
the confessional at nine o'clock on Sunday, with- 
out having broken his fast, and sung mass and 
preached as usual at a late hour in the forenoon, 
and with so little appearance of fatigue, that the 
majority of the congregation never even suspected 
that he had stirred abroad in the interval. Ef- 
forts nearly as great as this were by no means un- 
common with him. There was no species of hard- 
ship, no inconvenience or discomfort which he did 
not cheerfully endure. For he knew how to turn 
all sufferings to good account. He was inflamed 
with zeal for the honor of God and salvation of 
souls, and choosing to be poor in this world, he 
was covetous of those riches which men too often 

neglect and despise : he was determined to lav up 
11* 



258 DISCOUESE ON 

treasures in Heaven, where the thief cannot enter, 
nor the moth consume. " Filled with the knowl- 
edge of God's holy will in all wisdom and spiritual 
understanding," he strove to "walk worthy of 
God, being fruitful in every good work, and in- 
creasing in the knowledge of God, strengthened 
with all might, according to the power of his glory, 
in all patience and long-suffering with joy ; giving 
thanks to God the Father, who made him worthy 
to be partaker of the lot of the saints."^ Habit- 
uated to the elegant refinements of the most pol- 
ished society in the world, he was, in the discharge 
of his pastoral duties, as much at home with the 
rude and illiterate, as if he had been brought up 
among them, and that without ever forgetting for 
a moment the sacred dignity of his character, or 
the true politeness of a Christian gentleman. He 
was affable, familiar, kind, but paternal : " He 
made himself all to all, that he might win all to 
Christ."^ All the members of his flock looked 
up to him with filial affection and with filial re- 
spect. His influence, as the pastor, the friend, 

» CoL i. 9, 10, 11, 12. « 1 Cor. ix. 12. 



BISHOP DUBOIS. . • 259 

the father of all, was very great : among you, my 
brethren in this rural parish, it was almost un- 
bounded. You can bear witness that it was ex- 
erted only to promote virtue, and piety and do- 
mestic happiness, and universal good will. Even 
in matters of a mixed nature, or which seemed to 
relate more to your temporal than to your spiritual 
welfare, how beneficial to you was that authority 
which his virtues conferred upon him. You can 
remember how strenuously and effectually he la- 
bored to preserve among you a proper simplicity 
of manners ; how firmly he set his face against the 
introduction of the frivolous fashions, the follies 
and dissipations of the world ; how vigorously he 
crushed the many-headed monster of extravagance. 
Which of you was willing, while he was your pas- 
tor, to bring the trappings of worldly vanity into 
the house of God ? Mild and amiable as he was, 
yet how severe was his rebuke of the silly affecta- 
tion of wealth, the show without the substance of 
prosperity ? He was not a lecturer on political 
economy, and he moved in a sphere far above the 
low and selfish strife of party politics ; but in re- 



260 DISCOURSE ON 

commending always economy, frugality, and indus- 
try as virtues required in the Christian, and in de- 
nouncing, as I have heard him do most unsparingly, 
the cancerous system of contracting debt without 
a clear foresight of the means of payment, he was 
inculcating the true policy both for your temporal 
and eternal interest. Nor was his influence con- 
fined to those who acknowledged him as their pas- 
tor. The upright Protestant referred his cause to 
him as to one " clad with justice, and who clothed 
himself with judgment as with a robe and a dia- 
dem.''^ For "he was an eye to the blind and a 
foot to the lame, and the father of the poor ; and 
the cause which he knew not he searched out 
diligently ; and he sat as a king with his army 
standing about him, and as a comforter to them 
that mourned."^ 

Mr. Dubois had that bold and sanguine spirit 
which is required in the founder of important in- 
stitutions or the leader in 'arduous enterprises. 
When he undertook to build the first Catholic 
Church in Frederick, he no sooner exhibited his 

^ Job xxix. ^Job xxix. 



%. 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 261 

plans and an estimate of the expenses, than every- 
body predicted that the undertaking must fail. 
" We all thought/' to repeat the words of one of 
his parishioners, who now fills with honor the first 
judicial station in our government ; " we all 
thought that the means could never he raised to 
pay for such a building, that the Church would 
never be completed, and if it were completed, it 
would never be filled with Catholics.'" Mr. Du- 
bois thought differently, and he persevered. He 
built the Church, paid for it, and lived not only to 
see it filled, but to celebrate the divine mysteries 
in that much more spacious and more splendid 
temple which has been erected by his present wor- 
thy successor in the pastorship of that congrega- 
tion. In like manner when he spoke to the people 
of the great plan which he was revolving in his 
active mind, of establishing a college for the edu- 
cation of their children and the supply of the holy 
ministry, there were few, if any, v/ho could enter 
into his views. Most persons listened with looks 
of surprise or smiles of incredulity, and some pri- 
vately pronounced him crazy ; and many a laugh 



262 DISCOUKSE ON 

and jeer went round, when, amid difficulties wMcb. 
we can scarce conceive, lie was bringing together, 
in the midst of a dense, miry, and almost inacces- 
sible thicket, the rude materials of his first humble 

school-house. Need I now ask who was ri2:ht — 

* . . . 

the bold, indefatigable, heaven-inspired projector, 

or the idle, short-sighted scoifers ? After all, 
both were right. They took the natural view of 
things ; he viewed the matter in the light of di- 
vine faith. They said : it is humanly impossible. 
He said : this thing is indeed impossible with 
men, but it is not so with God. " He," to use 
the beautiful language of the psalmist, "He 
dwelt in the aid of the Most High ; he was over- 
shadowed by his shoulders, and in his wings he 
trusted."^ Yet while he trusted entirely in the 
help of God, he labored as if all depended on him- 
self. It was a curious spectacle to see this polished 
gentleman and dignified ecclesiastic, sharing with 
the hardy sons of toil the roughest drudgery to 
further his humble improvements ; following the 
ponderous wain over difficult and dangerous roads ; 

^ Psalm xc. 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 26 



o 



cheering the woodman whose axe made the forest 
ring ; plying the spade with hands more fit to 
wield the crosier, and presiding at the rural fete 
in honor of the successful raising of a log building, 
with manners that would have graced the saloons 
of his native city. But it was by such means 
that he commanded success, when another would 
have yielded to despair. 

During the fourteen years that he resided at 
Frederick, he was accustomed to visit this neigh- 
borhood once a month, celebrating mass alternately 
at Emmittsburg and in the old chapel, which was 
but a room in the farm-house of the first settler 
here ; for after the Protestant revolution in Mary- 
land, a Catholic church could not be erected in the 
province. He had improved and decorated the 
little church in Emmittsburg, erected a short time 
before by a zealous priest from the "Island of 
Saints," liberally seconded by the few Catholics of 
that village. He had selected, in the midst of 
a dense forest, a site of unrivalled grandeur , and 
beauty, and on it reared, by immense personal ex- 
ertions, the church in which we are now assembled. 



264 DISCOURSE ON 

The time had come, when his great project of es- 
tablishing a College was to be carried into effect. 
A friendless foreigner, lisping " a language which 
he had not known/' an exile flying from the sword 
of persecution, a penniless priest, undertakes alone 
to do that which the authority and treasures of the 
State of Maryland have not been able to accom- 
plish. And, my brethren, he succeeds. By his 
own exertions, without one dollar of endowment 
or donation from the State, with no munificent 
grant, no rich bequest, nothing but his own ener- 
gies and the help of God, he triumphs over every 
difficulty, and succeeds beyond all expectation. 
Go back in fancy to the year 1809, when the first 
log building stood there below, with a very narrow 
clearing in front and the wild fox and wolf howling 
in the distance. Contrast that with the present 
state of things, and look at the corresponding in- 
crease of blessings and advantages derived from the 
toils and struggles of Mr. Dubois, and then, if you 
can, refuse your tribute of gratitude to this distin- 
guished benefactor to the cause of education, of 
charity, and of religion. Do you ask the secret of 



BISHOP DUBOIS. . 265 

this wonderful success ? Simply this, my breth- 
ren — the Divine blessing prospering all his labors. 
Yes, " the finger of God was there ;"^ he was but 
the instrument of Him who " chooses the foolish 
things of this world that he may confound the 
wise, and the weak things of this world that he 
may confound the strong ;" " for that which is 
foolish of God is wiser than men, and that which 
is weakness of God is stronger than men."^ 

His primary object was to establish a seminary 
for ecclesiastical education. The Catholic Church 
in the United States was as yet almost entirely 
dependent on Europe for the education of its mis- 
sionaries. Bishop Carroll, consecrated to the See 
of Baltimore, which then comprised the entire 
Union, in the year 1790, immediately set himself 
about establishing a seminary, and called from Eu- 
rope those learned, pious, and venerable members 
of the Society of St. Sulpice, to whom our country 
at large and this diocese in particular are so greatly 
indebted. Mr. Dubois wished to associate his la- 
bors with theirs, and for a time conducted his lit- 

' Exod. i. 19. = 1 Cor. 1. 



266 DISCOURSE ON 

tie institution as a brancli of the Sulpitian sem- 
inary. But difficulties rather than advantages 
growing out of this union, the parties, who had a 
common object, though they might differ as to the 
means, agreed, like Paul and Barnabas, to go their 
several ways in peace ; and the divine blessing at- 
tended them both. It was most signally bestowed 
on Mr. Dubois^s undertaking. From the little 
nursery which he had planted by the mountain's 
side, he was soon able to present to his Bishop, as 
the first fruits of his zeal, several pious youths fully 
prepared for the study of theology, and destined to 
shine among the ornaments of the sanctuary. Ere 
long he is surrounded by a crowd of aspirants to 
the holy ministry. The Queen of Sciences is en- 
throned at Mt. St. Mary's, and counts a larger 
retinue of suitors here than in any other institution 
in our country. He is seconded by a brother priest 
from France, of spirit akin to his own ; a man who 
unites the most profound and varied learning to 
the highest genius, but whose genius and learning 
are surpassed by his piety and zeal — need I name 
the saintly Bishop of Vincennes, the lamented 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 267 

Brute, the memory of whose virtues in the minds 
of all who knew him, is like a bank of fragrant 
flowers in Spring, whose character was truly " as 
a massy vessel of gold adorned with every precious 
stone ? "^ Thus supported, he was able to supply 
the missions of our country with many pious and 
enlightened pastors, including a fair proportion of 
our present Hierarchy. Before he left Mt. St. 
Mary's he could count more than forty priests, 
who were chiefly, if not entirely, indebted to him 
for their ecclesiastical education ; and to him 
surely, if to any one, it was given to view with 
enviable feelings the progress of true religion in 
our country, — Episcopal Sees created, churches 
and altars rising, and congregations springing up 
in every part of the land ; as a watcher of the 
skies, when twilight fades away, sees at first but a 
few dim stars, then another and another shining 
forth, until the heavenly host by their number and 
brightness gladden his sight and illumine the vast 
firmament with their glory. 

He was no less attentive to the education of 

^ Eccles. 1. 10. 



268 DISCOUKSE ON 

those destined to secular pursuits. He selected 
the retired site of Ms college, then much more dif- 
ficult of access than it is at present, partly from 
considerations of health and of the importance of a 
vigorous development of mind and body ; but still 
more, as I have already intimated, in the hope of 
shutting out the demon of worldly dissipation and 
the seductions of vicious example. He knew that 
piety is the safeguard and ornament of every state 
of life, that " it has the promise of the life that 
now is and of that which is to come."^ He knew 
that without piety there can be no sohd virtue, 
religion being the only foundation on which the 
moral edifice can be securely erected. He there- 
fore made piety the basis of his system ; and what 
he did for the education of boys at Mt. St. Mary's, 
he powerfully co-operated in doing for female edu- 
cation at St. Joseph's. Experience is daily prov- 
ing which is the right system — the worldly or the 
Christian one. The teachings of reason, of anal- 
ogy, and of the law of God, may not be despised 
with impunity. The young steed, that has been 

^ 1 Tim. iii. 8. 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 269 

trained and disciplined, may fling his rider and 
rush madly to danger and destruction, yet he feels 
the old impression of the bit, and will return to 
subjection ; but the wild horse of the prairie, who 
will tame him ? Who will curb his fiery neck ? 
And who will subject to the yoke of the law of 
God, the spirit that has not known the early dis- 
cipline of heavenly wisdom ? 

Knowing that the first fruits of life, even its 
opening buds and vernal flowers, are the most ac- 
ceptable present to Heaven, he was peculiarly 
careful to secure the ofiering of the youthful heart 
to God. Who, that ever witnessed it, can forget 
his mode of preparing children for their First 
Communion, and rendering the impressions of that 
happy day, on which they first opened their hearts 
to let the King of glory in, decisive of their destiny 
for life ? What eye was tearless here, when the 
sweet voice of childhood's piety was heard reciting 
that beautiful act of atonement and of consecra- 
tion of the soul to God, which he prepared for 
this interesting occasion ? What heart so hard- 
ened, that it was not moved, when this venerable 



270 DISCOURSE ON 

priest addressed his simple, pious, persuasive ex- 
hortations to his children, who with angelic coun- 
tenances listened to his words, as they would have 
listened to the voice of an angel, and, like little 
angels themselves, knelt before the table of the 
Lord, that they might receive the bread of angels 
from his hands'? Oh ! you may find a sinner 
hardened in guilt, apparently insensible to every 
motive of virtue, and dead to every feeling of 
piety ; but, if he made his first communion at Mt. 
St. Mary^s under the direction of Mr. Dubois, be 
assured that there is yet one "chord in his heart 
which will vibrate to the touch of religion. Speak 
to him of that happy day : remind him of the 
pure joys he then experienced and the vows he 
then made to Heaven from an innocent heart, — 
and you will see the tear-drop. starting in his eye, 
and you will justly hope that he may yet prove 
the returning Prodigal, and give joy to Heaven by 
his conversion. 

Anxious to 'neglect no means of inspiring and 
preserving youthful piety, he ► -was particularly 
eager to infuse into the young breast his own 



BISHOP DtJBOIS. 271 

tender devotion to the Mother of God. To Tier 
he dedicated his Church, his College, and his 
Seminary. The hill, the spring, the woods, — 
every thing around him was sacred to Mary. To 
her honor his labors and his life were devoted :— 
and beautiful were the lessons which he taught 
us by word and example, of respect for the exalted 
virtues and prerogatives of our most Blessed Lady, 
— of love for this purest and most tender of 
mothers, of confidence in the intercession of our 
most powerful advocate and protectress. Oh, 
Mary ! spotless Queen of Heaven ! most gracious 
patroness of our Mount ! may we never cease to 
practise his admirable instructions ! 

He spared no pains to give- the youths in- 
trusted to his care all the literary and scientific 
advantages which his means enabled him to com- 
pass. To exhibit all that he did for this end, 
would be to relate the early history of the institu- 
tion which he founded. I will only remark that, 
amid his other duties, however numerous and 
burthensome, he found time to teach not a Httle 
himself Sole pastor of this congregation, chief 



272 DISCOUKSE ON 

pastor of Emmittsburg, Confessor or Superior of 
St. Josephs, and sometimes both at once, Presi- 
dent, Procurator, and Treasurer of tbe College, 
building, gardening, farming, directing great im- 
provements and projecting new ones, giving a per- 
sonal attention to every thing, — lie was yet teach- 
ing daily a class of Latin, and sometimes one, 
sometimes two of French, and in the absence of 
Mr. Brut6 filling the chair of Theology. He was 
the life and soul of the establishment over which 
he presided — holding with a firm hand the reins 
of discipline, approving the best, encouraging the 
good, urging the tepid, and spurring or correcting 
the indolent or the unruly, — as a mild but watch- 
ful and determined father in the midst of a nu- 
merous family, governing each, and extending 
equal care and affection to all. 

And while his own immediate family seemed 
to engross his time and toil, there was another 
wide-spread family looking up to him, on a hun- 
dred different occasions, as their common Father. 
You, my brethren of the congregation, did not 
pronounce an unmeaning word when you gave 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 273 

Mm tliat respectful and endearing name. N"ot 
only was lie your spiritual director, into whose 
sympathetic bosom you could pour the sorrows of 
a repentant soul ; but which of you was in trouble 
that did not come to him for consolation ? Which 
of you in want, that did not apply to him for re- 
lief ? Where was the afflicted father or heart- 
broken mother that did not call on him to reclaim 
the ungrateful, wandering child ? If servants 
were unruly, did not the master refer them to 
him ? If the master was hard-hearted, to whom 
could the servant go for redress, if not to the 
pastor, the father of all, in whose kind and chari- 
table heart there was no respect of persons, no re- 
gard to fortune or to color — all alike were his 
children, — and while he pointed out to each the 
duties of his station and required him to do them, 
what other desire had he than to lead aU alike to 
Heaven, and on the great accounting day to pre- 
sent you all, not one soul missing from your num- 
ber, to his and your heavenly Father, — able to 
say : '^Lo, here am I, and the children whom thou 

gavest me ! " 
12 



-«f- 



274 DISCOURSE ON 

Time will not permit me, my brethren, to 
speak to you as I would wisli of his large instru- 
mentality in establishing in this country the ad- 
mirable society of the Sisters of Charity. He 
was, as I have heard Mr. Brute express it, " The 
true father of that Institution from the beg-inninoc." 
When Mother Seaton first came to this neighbor- 
hood, he gave her a home uj)on this very hill. He 
freely shared his Hmited means with them : he 
supported them, when other support they had 
none. He was their Confessor and Director during 
the first years of their existence as a Society. To 
him Archbishop Carroll intrusted all that related 
to them. He instructed, trained, directed, formed 
them all. He initiated them into the practice of 
the rules laid down by St. Yincent of Paul. He 
consoled, encouraged, and sustained them amid 
trials and difficulties, which would have shaken 
souls less generous than theirs or his, — and from 
the scanty stores of his own poverty he supplied 
them with bread, when but for him they had no 
alternative but to abandon their undertaking and 
disperse, or to perish for want of food. Tell me 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 275 

not, my friends, of heroism on the battle-field : 
tell me not of that wonderful man, who at this 
very time was leading half a million of devoted 
followers to the cannon's mouth, and exercising 
such a strange ascendency over their maddened 
minds, that, while blood was spouting from their 
death-wounds, they would stifle the groans of 
agony, and summon all their remaining breath to 
shout " Long live the Emperor ! " There was 
more true heroism then exhibited in St. Joseph's 
vale, w^hen this man of God had taught that deli- 
cately reared and softly nurtured mother and her 
little band of resolute associates to suffer without 
complaint, day after day and month after month, 
the gnawing pains of hunger, confident that He 
who feeds the ravens would not forget them, and 
in the hope that they might yet grow up into a 
community and one day be able themselves to 
feed the hungry, to rear the forsaken orphan, to 
nurse the destitute sick, to throw themselves like 
tutelary angels between the raging pestilence and 
its trembling victims. That hope has been real- 
ized ! Yes, departed benefactors of the poor ! — 



276 DISCOUESE ON 

Dubois ! Seaton ! thousands of orphans, rescued 
from want and misery and death, or worse than 
deathj have raised their grateful hands to Heaven, 
imploring blessings on you — a thousand orphans 
will this night remember you in their prayers ! 

I have spoken of the rude beginnings of Mt. 
St. Mary's College. In a few years the scene had 
changed, as if by magic. The thicket was cleared; 
the stumps of trees removed; the grounds inclosed 
and broken into terraces. The water, " taught a 
better course,'' flowed through artificial channels 
to the spot where it was needed : the garden 
bloomed with flowers, and presented to the eye 
the fruits of many climes : there were shady walks 
along the mountain's side or on the margin of the 
murmuring brook : the rude arbor, the moss-grown 
rock, the rippling stream, the wild notes of war- 
bling birds, allured the lover of books, and, with the 
grand and beautiful and hallowed scenes around, 
converted him into a lover of nature and of God. 
The adjacent village had largely improved : the 
neighborhood was gladdened with signs of increas- 
ing prosperity. The two institutions, the Semi- 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 277 

naiy and Sisterhood, like brother and sister had 
grown up together, or, sister-hke, the latter was 
maturing the faster. Scholars had gone forth from 
both mountain and valley, to tell their friends 
what beautiful things were adoing in a wild se- 
questered spot by the foot of the Blue Kidge 
mountain. A noble edifice, the fruit of so many 
years' unparalleled exertions, was on the point of 
completion, and a hundred youthful students were 
ready to occupy it. The feast of Pentecost, on 
the sixth day of June, 1824, came and passed 
away. The last rays of a bright sun, ere it set be- 
hind St. Mary's Mount, had gilded the cross which 
rose from the cupola of this majestic structure. 
When that sun again appeared in the east, it 
threw its cheerless beams on blackened walls and 
smouldering ruins. Startled by alarming cries, at 
the dead of night, from the tranquil slumbers 
which visit the good man at the close of a well- 
spent day, Mr. Dubois beheld at a glance the ruin 
of his hopes. What, think you, my friends, were 
the first words that escaped his venerable lips ? 
Did he impeach the justice of Heaven ? Did he 



278 DISCOURSE ON 

call down vengeance on the head of the cruel in- 
cendiary? Ah ! it was a beautiful sight to see, 
even by the light of a disastrous conflagration — ■ 
that good old man, heart-broken, as you may sup- 
pose, arming himself deliberately with the sign of 
the cross, meekly bowing his head in token of sub- 
mission, and exclaiming with patient Job : " The 
Lord gave and the Lord hlath taken away; blessed 
be the name of the Lord/' ^ His spirit quailed 
not through that dreadful night. His characteris- 
tic fortitude did not forsake him. Conquering the 
agonies of despair, he calmly gave directions or ob- 
served in silent grief the progress of destruction. 
Soon he pointed out some defects in the plan of 
the flaming edifice, wliicJi he would remedy in the 
next; — and this too, though the snows of sixty 
winters had whitened his head, and he had gone 
beyond his present means in erecting the building, 
which was destroyed. And again he realized his 
prediction. He had the public confidence and 
sympathy. Grod prospered all his labors ; and a 
new College arose from the ashes of its predeces- 

' Job i. 21. 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 279 

sor. He not only finished it, though he remained 
but two years longer here, but he also presided 
over the erection of a still more spacious academy 
at St. Joseph's. 

He was then called to the vacant Bishopric of 
New York. It was hard to leave his dear Moun- 
tain and beautiful Valley, — to tear himself away 
from the spot which he had found a wilderness 
and made a paradise. It was hard to enter on 
new and untried fields of labor, when declining 
years and increasing infirmities entitled him rather 
to seek repose amid the beautiful creations of his 
own religious zeal and charity. But he was never 
known to shrink from toil or hardship, and he 
bowed to the decision of that authority which 
forms the very keystone of the grand arch of 
Catholic Unity. He was consecrated to the See 
of New York in the autumn of 1826. His career 
as a Bishop was one of unostentatious, but active 
and untiring benevolence. He visited frequently 
every portion of the vineyard intrusted to his care. 
He was a kind father to his clergy, a friend and 
benefactor to the poor, a pastor full of solicitude 



280 DISCOUKSE ON 

to supply abundantly tlie spiritual wants of his 
extensive diocese. He won the hearts of many 
by his paternal kindness and the charm of his en- 
gaging manners. He edified all by the regularity 
of his pious conduct, his pure disinterestedness, 
his charity and fervent devotion. Many obstacles 
he had to encounter ; but he overcame them by 
patient meekness and unconquerable resolution. 
And if this good prelate was forced to witness 
scenes which wounded his paternal heart, he also 
saw much, when he looked over his great field of 
labor, to console and gratify him — new congrega- 
tions arising, religion continually advancing, in- 
stitutions of charity multiplying around him, — 
the co-operation of many zealous laborers in the 
vineyard, and, among them, of gifted and exem- 
plary priests, whom he himself had educated. He 
saw Sisters of Charity whom he himself had trained, 
laboring in their angelic vocation in the asylum, in 
the school-room, in the hospital. He saw continu- 
ally some hundreds of orphan children to whom he 
had been a provident benefactor ; and this good and 
holy Bishop, though far from his native country 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 281 

and kindred, was encircled by a numerous, devoted, 
and affectionate family, depending on tiis spiritual 
care, looking up to him for counsel and direction, 
and imploring the divine goodness to scatter bless- 
ings on his path, and prolong and brighten the 
evening of his days. "When the charge of his 
great and populous diocese had become too weighty 
for his shoulders, bent by age and weakened by 
infirmities, he sought a coadjutor among his chil- 
dren of the Mountain, and placed the heavy bur- 
then on shoulders that are able to bear it. There 
too he had erected a College for ecclesiastical and 
secular education, and seen it ruined by devouring 
flames. Yet he lived to behold his fond hope real- 
ized in the establishment of an institution founded 
on the j)lan, governed by the rules, and directed 
by the children of Mount St. Mary's. 

"Which of you, my brethren, will ever forget 
the scenes which you witnessed when Mr. Dubois 
revisited the spots ever dearest to his heart, the 
Mountain and the "Valley ? How did the whole 
population of the country around pour forth to 
welcome their benefactor, and to ask a father's 



282 DISCOURSE ON 

blessing from him ! It was as if a patriot hero 
were returning in triumph to his country delivered 
by his arms. When he was last among you, during 
the summer that is past, you saw indeed but the 
wrecks of that vigorous constitution, that unbend- 
ing will, that noble resolution to do good to men 
and promote the glory of God, which, in his better 
day, appeared in his firm step, his erect bearing, 
his quick commanding eye, his countenance stamp- 
ed with energy and firmness, yet beaming with 
benevolence ; but you still recognized and were 
delighted to behold that paternal look and gra- 
cious smile, that desire to make every one happy, 
that prompt politeness and amiable manner which 
made him at all times the perfect model of a 
Christian gentleman ; and you were edified too to 
observe the lamp of charity burning brightly to the 
last, and throwing its rays on that humble piety and 
tender devotion which ever marked his character. 

I find that character, my brethren, briefly, but 
accurately, sketched on the page of sacred Scrip- 
ture. It is in the description of the just man con- 
ducted by heavenly wisdom. " Wisdom hath de- 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 283 

livered from sorrow them that attend upon her. 
She conducted the just, when he fled from his 
brother's wrath, through right ways, and showed 
him the kingdom of God, and gave him the knowl- 
edge of holy things ; made him honorable in his 
labors, and accomplished his labors.''^ Yes, this 
divine guide delivered him from all his dangers, 
and trials, and sorrows, and turned them all into 
occasions of merit ; led him by the hand, when he 
fled from the wrath of his impious brethren, who 
in the name of reason and philanthropy estab- 
lished the reign of Atheism and terror ; opened 
to his view the kingdom of Grod, by making known 
his holy will and choosing him to be the interpre- 
ter of his oracles and " dispenser of his myste- 
ries ; " employed him in the most useful, the most 
charitable, the most honorable labors^ — in labors 
which will cover him with fame, and glor}^, and 
benediction, for all eternity ; and brought all his 
labors, no matter how arduous or unpromising, 
brought them all to a happy issue and crowned 
them with complete success. 

^Wisdom X. 9, 10. 



284 • DISCOUESE ON 

Need I tell you tliat such a life was closed 
by a tranquil and happy death ? Patient, resigned, 
and devout to the end, the last object that caught 
his eager gaze was the sign under which he " had 
fought the good fight," and won his victories — the 
image of his crucified Kedeemer ; the last words 
that trembled on his lips were the holy names 
which, in infancy, a pious mother had taught him 
to lisp, — Jesus, Mary, and Joseph ! As ripe and 
mellow fruit falls in due season to the ground ; as 
the flower hangs its head, and droops, and dies ; 
as the sun at evening's close sinks calmly into 
ocean's bed, leaving tracks of glory behind ; so 
did he quit this earthly scene, without a struggle 
and without a sigh, — with a prayer on his lips and 
a sweet hope of heavenly rest in his heart, and a 
sweet thought of the mercy of Jesus, whom he 
had loved and served all his life, hovering like an 
angel over his departing spirit. 

He has gone, we trust, to that blessed place 
where many souls, saved by his ministry, joyously 
awaited his coming. Shall we accompany him 
hither ? Shall we dispel those fears which ever 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 285 

qualify our strongest assurance, and follow Mm to 
" the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusa- 
lem, and the company of many thousand angels, 
and to God, the Judge of all, and to the spirits 
of the just made perfect ? "^ Shall we fancy the 
rajDturous greetings given by his numerous children 
in Christ to their welcome father, and attempt to 
conceive the reunion in bliss and glory and in the 
bosom of their Saviour of the kindred spirits of a 
Dubois, a Brute, and a Seaton ! But no ; it is 
not given to us to lift the veil which hides from 
mortal eyes the mansions of the blest. We are 
not privileged, as was the valiant Machabeus, 
when in heavenly vision he beheld the High Priest 
Onias, " a good and virtuous man, modest in his 
looks, gentle in his manners, and graceful in his 
speech, and exercised from a child in all virtues, 
holding up his hands " before the throne of God, 
" and praying for all the people/'^ "We rather 
pray for him : we offer to God for him the Lamb 
that was slain to take away our sins ; because per- 
haps he may need the assistance of our prayers 

1 Heb. xii. 22, 23. ^ Macliab. xv. 12. 



286 ^ DISCOURSE ON 

and sacrificeSj and, if he need them, he is most 
clearly entitled to our grateful remembrance before 
the altar of God ; and because, whatever the case 
may be, the charity which wishes to help a suffer- 
ing soul will not go unrewarded. He is entitled 
to our gratitude, for, though he died as he had 
lived — poor in the goods of this world, rich only in 
spiritual gifts and graces — though he left no earth- 
ly property or wealth to be divided, yet has he be- 
queathed to us a precious inheritance, a legacy of 
inestimable value, to make us bless his memory 
and be mindful of him in our prayers. He has 
left us our College and Seminary. He has left 
you this Church, and all the blessings of a con- 
stant pastoral attendance. He has left bishops to 
the Church, pastors to the faithful, instructors to 
the ignorant, mothers to the orphans ; sisters, 
kind, devoted sisters, to all that need the mim's- 
tering hand of charity. Can any honor that 
Christians may pay to the departed be too great 
for such a benefactor ? And if all the world be- 
side forget him, will Mount St. Mary's be un- 
grateful to his memory ? God forbid, my breth- 



BISHOP DUBOIS. 287 

ren, that we should merit such a reproach ! But 
he has left us soraething more — the beautiful ex- 
ample of his virtues. To you most particularly 
this rich inheritance belongs. For thirty-two 
years he was your pastor ; for eighteen years he 
lived in the midst of you, the pattern, as well as 
the leader, of his flock. For if he showed you the 
road to Heaven, he also led the way ; he was al- 
ways " as the eagle enticing her young to fly, and 
hovering over them."^ Kemember, therefore, his 
virtuous conversation, and take to heart the lesson 
which his life conveys. Shun the counsels of the 
ungodly ; walk not in the ways of sinners, and 
never sit in the chair of pestilent impiety, blas- 
pheming what you do not understand, and with 
silly weakness scoffing at the wisdom of your Cre- 
ator. But give your heart to the law of Grod : 
meditate thereon by day and by night : seek his 
will, to know and do it. Clinging with devoted 
loyalty to the old, hereditary faith of Christendom, 
show forth in your lives the spirit which has ani- 
mated, and the virtues which have adorned, in 

^ Dent, xxxii. 11, 



288 DISCOURSE ON BISHOP DUBOIS. 

every age, the saints and heroes of the Church. 
" Kemember/^ according to the advice of the Holy 
Ghost, " Kemember your prelates, who have spoken 
to you the word of Grod, and, considering well the 
end of their conversation, imitate their faith/' ^ 
If you imitate the faith of Mr. Dubois, his lively, 
active, generous faith, you wiU imitate all his vir- 
tues. You will imitate his zeal, his charity, his 
humility and self-denial, his ardent piety, his spirit 
of continual prayer. And you- too shall be " like 
the tree, which is planted near the running wa- 
ters — you shall bring forth fruit in due season — 
your leaf shall not fall off — and all things, what- 
soever you do, shall prosper : " for whatever may 
be your lot in this life, every thing which you shall 
do in the state of grace, and for the love of Grod, 
will add a gem to the crown with which " the 
Prince of Pastors '^ will wreath your brows in 
Heaven. 

^ Heb. xiii. 7. 





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